Fleurs du Mal
by Aqwart
Summary: Harry Potter wasn't abused physically. However, there are other ways a child can be scarred. Deprived of light and human touch for the first five years of his life could have made him into a recluse or a psychopath. Or both. Fortunately (or not) he is relatively normal. He just doesn't know love, affection and few other humane feelings. Grey/Hadrian, Dumbl&SomeWeasleysBashing, AU
1. Chapter 1: Childhood

**Summary:**

Harry Potter wasn't abused physically. However, there are worse ways a child can be scarred. Deprived of light and human touch for the first five years of his life could have made him into a recluse or a psychopath. Or both. Fortunately, thanks to a stroke of luck, he managed to pull through relatively unharmed. Of course if knowing no feeling of love or affection could be counted as being unharmed. [Grey/Hadrian] [Dumbledore/HandpickedWeasleys/Hermione Bashing] [Mature content]

 **Trigger warnings:**

This story WILL feature heavily suggestive themes, though nothing explicit - I can't really write "lemons" anyway, it always turns out pathetic, so it's probably for the best. They will start appearing around the fourth year, but, since we will mostly skip through the first three years (like, one chapter - one year), you can expect them pretty soon. Don't worry though, they will only be there to develop characters and atmosphere, the main plot is most certainly not going to revolve around relationships and sex.

There will be important canon character(s?) death, you might also expect some others meeting their fate as well as graphic violence. Rating M isn't for nothing, so be warned.

 **A/N:**

While I have some experience in writing stories I can freely admit, that this one is the first I'll be writing in English. It's not my first language, and though I have no problems speaking and reading it, I have never before undertaken something quite so big as this is shaping up to be. So... Please bear with me if you see anything that shouldn't be there or can't see something that should :) That said I will do my very best to avoid errors and misspellings.

I'm going to be updating this story probably about once every week or two; the way I see it, it's probably going to be over a 100k words, but it's all rather fluid at this moment, so it might also end up with ~60k or so. Either way, this is going to be the first part of a trillogy.

* * *

Darkness. Complete, encompassing darkness was all the little boy knew. Ever since he could remember, he didn't see much light. And every time he did see it, it was somehow connected with pain or discomfort. Normally children don't remember their first words or steps. This child, however, was far from normal. It remembered with perfect clarity the first time he managed to speak. It also remembered, that because it managed this feat before another child, it was beaten and immediately shut in it's crib, conveniently placed somewhere dark and out of everybody's way. One would think, that such treatment would lead the child to withdrawal from the world. That it would cause said child to become unstable, shy, closed off and perhaps even a bit psychotic. One thinking so wouldn't be completely incorrect, for it has been this child's way of dealing with trauma for quite a few early years of it's life. But then, school happened.

 **===#^#===**

The education in all of the United Kingdom is quite straightforward, at least when it comes to the so called Compulsory Education Age. The law states, that it is compulsory for the kids between the ages of 5 and 16 to receive education. It is not, however, necessary for it to be done in any formalized way. In fact, quite a lot of parents decide that they will do a better job of it than the structuralised education system, and decide to do some homeschooling. And so it was this dilemma, that this child's guardians found themselves with. It was never a question, whether their own flesh and blood would go to school. It was always supposed to be the best private school available, Smeltings Academy, with excellent teachers, great library, a couple of football, basketball and tennis fields and even a swimming pool. This child, however, was not their own flesh and blood. They didn't want it; they detested it. When they first found it on their doorstep, their first instinct, which they immediately acted on, was to call for the police and get rid of it. They were quickly forced into submission though - no sooner than they took the phone, a tall, weirdly dressed woman appeared and explained to them, that they had no choice but to accept and take the responsibility for the child... Or else.

And so they did. Being forced though did nothing to appeal to their compassion. They did the bare minimum, making sure only that the child is physically somewhat healthy and fed. They did not, however, allow it to play with other children, especially with their own. They even went so far as to shut this child in a cupboard under the stairs for a better part of it's infancy. This, however, stopped being a viable option with this child's turning five, and, consequently, becoming eligible to receive education. It's guardians were torn. They could either send it to a public school or claim to be homeschooling it. Both approaches had it's pros and cons. Sending it to a public school would lessen their burden and get them rid of it for at least part of a day. However, especially at the beginning, it's behavior could raise some concerns. It would probably be socially awkward; knowing only the dark cupboard it could also say something it wasn't supposed to, thus bringing unwanted scrutiny of family services to their household, which was to be avoided at all cost. On the other hand, homeschooling would change virtually nothing. It would still occupy the cupboard and be a non-person. This, while not a bad thing, could lead to other set of problems. Namely, they wouldn't really teach it anything. They had no qualifications nor desire to do so. This was fine for the most part of the year, they knew however, that homeschooled children were required to attend end-year exam to evaluate their progress, lack of which could also lead to unwanted attention.

Taking all this into consideration, the child's guardians decided to send him to a public school come September. They acquired necessary school utensils and uniform, all perfectly new and well fitting. For even if they were not caring about the child they knew, that should they neglect it in any obvious way, it would come hunting them soon enough.

Few short months later, on the eve of the first of September, they shooed their own to it's bedroom. They opened the cupboard's door and motioned the child to follow them. It did. They told it to sit down on a couch. It did.

"Boy," the man started. "Tomorrow you are to start attending Public First. We expect you to behave yourself and not bring any unwanted attention to yourself, understood?" He said strongly. Seeing the lack of understanding in the child's eyes, he elaborated. "Public First is a local school. You will be going there every day, from monday to friday, and learn all you can. You will bring good grades, but not overly so. You will be polite, you will not speak out of turn. You will not speak of your home life unless asked for by a teacher. If that happens, you will tell them that you are living with your foster family, that you have your own room and everything you need. You will not mention the cupboard, you will not bring anybody home, you will always come back here immediately after lessons' end. Do you understand?"

The child looked at him, and shyly nodded. He continued, "If a teacher or an adult asks you, you live with uncle Vernon, aunt Petunia and brother Dudley. You will try to avoid other children, they are not trustworthy enough. You will control your behavior and not engage in any shenenigans. From today," he looked at the child piercingly, "you are moving to Dudley's old bedroom. But remember, that you will be back in a cupboard should you break the rules, boy."

The child nodded eagerly. It would have a new, bigger room! He was overjoyed. It would be amazing, he knew. Dudley's old bedroom was huge, at least million square feet! What would he do with all this space? Oh well, he was sure he could think of something. His head swirling with ideas, he almost missed his uncle's last remark.

"Oh, and boy? Your name, the one that you will react to, is Hadrian Potter."

 **===#^#===**

"Hello children, my name is Evelynn Clark, and I'm your teacher. We will be learning many wondrous things together for the next few years," she said enthusiastically. She was a young woman, looking at most 30 years old, though probably much younger. She was of average height, while at the same time being rather slim and well endowed. Were she teaching teenagers, she would have probably been many boys' wet dream. She was, however, teaching prepubescent children, and so had no troubles keeping them concentrated on what she was saying, rather than what she was looking like. She liked to start each new class with an introduction lesson, for she thought it to be a good beginning of a year, as well as helping children to be more open to her and each other. That's why, after a customary introduction, she asked each and every child to say few words about itself.

"Hadrian Potter," she called next, looking around the classroom, after about half of the class has already spoken. Evelynn was almost ready to call again, but then she noticed scrawny black-haired boy reluctantly standing up. She smiled at him. "We're ready whenever you are," she said encouragingly.

"Good morning," the boy started shyly. "My name is Hadrian Potter. I live in Surrey with my uncle Vernon, aunt Petunia and cousin Dudley," he said and looked expectantly at miss Clark.

"Great," she smiled. "Do you already have any friends here?" She would always ask a few questions to help the children open up slightly more. Hadrian shook his head.

"No, miss Clark, I have no friends," he said, almost sadly. "But I hope that I can make friends soon!" he said eagerly. Evelynn smiled at him. He wasn't the first kid to express such hope. In each new class there always were those, that for one reason or the other were without friends. She knew however, that fortunately, he would really have to try to distance himself from all of the kids, which was unlikely - and that, sooner or later, he would find himself in his own circle of friends.

"Hadrian," she then inquired, "do you have any hobbies?"

"I..." Hadrian stumbled for words, slightly panicky. He didn't know what to say. Should he reveal that he had no real hobbies? Or should he make something up? He didn't want risk displeasing his uncle for fear of being thrown back to his cupboard. Finally he decided. "I like reading books."

Which was only a partial lie. He never had his own books, but the few times his aunt taught him how to read and write (to avoid him embarrassing himself and bringing attention to her) he enjoyed reading amazing tales and stories that were in the books she showed him. He was relieved to see, that miss Clark easily accepted his answer and promptly moved on to another pupil. Hadrian decided, that being caught like this again was not an option. He would have to research all that was expected of him, like having hobbies, favorite places, foods and TV shows. He could not slip again.

 **===#^#===**

"Hello, I'm Donald," said brown haired tall boy, extending his hand. Hadrian shook it, slightly bewildered that anyone would like to talk to him, but taking it in stride.

"Hi Donald, I'm Hadrian."

"So... What's up Hadrian? Do you like your first day at school?" Donald asked. And just like that, unknowingly, Hadrian broke one of his uncle's rules for the first, and certainly not the last, time.

 **===#^#===**

"Aunt Petunia?" he asked, seeing her to be in a relatively good mood. "I know I should come back home after classes, but could I spend some time in a library?" He asked, hopeful.

"Library?" Petunia sniffed. "Why would you want to spend time in a library?"

"Ah, it's just that I don't understand often what kids are talking about, and I know the library has some magazines that I could read there."

She thought about it. Nothing really harmful could come out of it, it was only a library after all. And if he was less socially awkward, all the better, less chance of someone coming snooping around. And if the kid would be out of home for longer, without the danger of him doing some mischief, all the better. She resolutely nodded her head and said, "You can, but no more than two hours every other day." She stipulated.

 **===#^#===**

"Very good Hadrian, your story is amazing!" Miss Clark exclaimed after reading the assigned writing he had handed her at the beginning of their lesson. It was very good indeed, with well thought-out plot, passable dialogues and clear structure. Certainly above his year's level, probably approaching the level of fifth-grader or so. Hadrian only slightly inclined his head. He knew he did well, he worked hard on this assignment, but was pleased nonetheless to have it confirmed, especially publicly like this. It would cement his peers opinion about him as a talented, yet friendly and approachable. He made it a point to always help others if he could, collecting favours for a later date. He made sure, however, to always use them sooner or later, even for something inconsequential; he knew, that should he be too lenient and give his help for free, he would quickly be taken advantage of. The boy was also making sure that he didn't pass up as a know-it-all; he knew it would be his undoing, as no one liked a know-it-all, himself included.

 **===#^#===**

There, thought Hadrian, once his new heavy curtains were hanged over his room's window. It was the first thing that he bought having earned his first money. He was working hard for them, helping his neighbours with all the menial jobs they could have thought of. And it was well worth it - now he could make the room as dark as he wanted it. He could no longer live in a cupboard, but darkness was still part of him.

 **===#^#===**

"Uncle?" Hadrian approached Vernon cautiously. Seeing that he had his uncle's attention, he started speaking. "I know you said that I'm to be back home as soon as classes ends, but all the boys from my class have signed for a martial arts class in the afternoon, and you also said that I shouldn't draw attention to myself, and as I would be the only one not attending I thought..." He rambled. Vernon looked at him and considered it.

Did he want his nephew learning physical combat? Certainly not. On the other hand, he was right, if he was the only one not allowed to attend, it would raise questions. And let's be honest, what could they teach to a bunch of six-year-olds?

"Very well," he allowed. "You can join this class if that's what you wish. But be careful, the last thing I want is to have to bring you to the hospital if you get harmed."

Hadrian silently snorted. _Figures, it would bring too much attention to his uncle's perfect world_. He didn't voice it though, he knew better. Instead he silently thanked Vernon and left.

 **===#^#===**

"Today we have a special guest," Miss Clark said. "Please say hello to Madam Camilla Afnett, who is going to show you today, how to effectively study. Please pay attention, what she will be saying can be very helpful."

Miss Afnett was about the same age as Miss Clark, but where Evelynn was blond with short curly hair, miss Afnett's were silkily black, and where Evelynn had a perfect figure, Camilla was a little plump. The way she spoke, however, showed that she had quite a lot of experience, as she had no problem whatsoever capturing children interest.

"I know, that no words will be enough to convince you to spend your free time learning new, difficult things that you don't even know work," she started. "That's why I'd like to start with small demonstration. In a short while I will leave this classroom for five minutes. In this time I want you to make a list of thirty random words, nouns preferably, which you will then show me. Begin!" She exclaimed, and promptly left the room.

Immediately ideas started flowing. Whenever kids agreed upon a word, miss Clark would write it down on a board. Some were easy, like a "dog", others less common, like "asparagus". Finally, with only a minute to spare, they were done. Miss Clark then invited Camilla back. She strode inside, purposefully not looking at the blackboard.

"So you are done, right? Good. Do you agree, that there is no way I could have known these words beforehand?" Seeing agreement throughout the class, she continued. "In that case, I will tell you what I'm going to do now. I will turn to the blackboard and look at the words you just invented for exactly one minute. Then I will turn my back on them, and, facing you, will recite them - in the order. How does it sound?" She asked, eliciting gasps.

"Impossible!" Someone shouted, to which Camilla only smiled.

And indeed, just a minute later she was correctly reciting the whole list in a correct order. Seeing awed faces she smiled; it never got old. "What I just did was to use a little trick called 'words association'. You see, it's rather difficult to remember just the words; our brains are not that good at it. On the other hand, our brains are very good at remembering images. So to remember something it's always good to connect it, or associate, with an image. What you will probably particularly like is, that the weirder the image, the better."

She had complete attention and focus, nobody even dared to sniff. "All this is fine and well, but there is one more step you need to make to teach yourselves twenty of thirty or even more words in a short time: you need to..." Camilla paused dramatically, to which miss Clark sighed silently.

"Make a story!" Camilla finished. "Once you have a list of words, you need to assign each word an image, a short animated scene, even. You have to do it in such a way, to have them connect to a next one. So, in your example, you started with words 'dog', 'tuxedo', 'umbrella', 'skateboard', and 'crocodile', to which I imagined a dog dressed in English lord's tuxedo, with an umbrella in his paw, trying valiantly to ride a skateboard on a giant crocodile's back," she said to a laughing at this image class. "Then you had me remember 'engine', 'fumes' and an 'asparagus', and my story went like this: A dog dressed in English lord's tuxedo with an umbrella in his paw, trying valiantly to ride a skateboard on a giant crocodile's back was having a problem, because the engine of his skateboard started to release a lot of fumes, which scared the frog trying to cook an asparagus nearby." She explained to, once again, awed class. Seeing this, she asked a random girl if she could, without looking at the board, recall first eight words. To the kid's own astonishment, she did so, after only a second of hesitation.

"Do you see? It's a very effective technique, and very easy to learn. Of course to be able to remember few dozen of words after only a minute takes practice, but if that's something that you really want, you will have it mastered in a few days time." She assured them. "But what about remembering more complex ideas, ones that cannot be made into a funny story without garbling the meaning? Well, let me tell you a little about... Mind palace."

 **===#^#===**

Hadrian was running. As a part of his PE class curriculum, each pupil was required to choose one sport they wanted to focus on each semester. When he informed his uncle about this, he was immediately told to choose something that didn't require buying any expensive hardware or clothes. With such conditions in place, he only had a choice between running, swimming and some team sports like soccer and basketball, which he didn't really want to play. And so he decided that he would start with running, as it was supposed - he read once - to develop his stamina best, and then he would change to swimming, which would supposedly help develop his body.

He knew he was fast. Out of all the kids running laps, his time was usually in top five. He came a long way; at first he had trouble finishing even one full lap. Thankfully, their coach was anything if not supportive. Thanks to this, Hadrian could now hope for a top spot in a few weeks time if he didn't slouch - which he had no plan to.

 **===#^#===**

"Should we tell him?" Fretted Petunia. "It's not like he won't know sooner or later that something is going on. And with this McGoldy witch, Vernon, they will surely send someone for him, and we won't be able to stop them!" she said, panic raising.

It was two days before Hadrian's eighth birthday, the day when - they were told all those years ago - the block on his magical core would come undone. When this happened, anything could happen, from pretty much nothing to a random yellow elephants flying in circles over him. It was also this day, that would mark the countdown to his first awakening. From the moment he turned eight he would occasionally, especially when under huge stress, display some unfocused, accidental magic. Dursleys knew about this, but had no idea what should they do - so they waited. When he was younger, they could justify it because of his age, but now... Now they had problem.

"We shouldn't have to even think of such a problem," declared Vernon. "But what can we do? We have to tell him." He declared, his shoulders slumped.

 **===#^#===**

"Wizard, huh?" Hadrian mused. He has just had the most interesting conversation with the Dursleys, during which they informed him of his heritage. He believed them instantly - they simply were not the kind of people to be joking around. If they, of all people said that magic was real, that was it, magic was real. Of course, despite it being very curious thing, it wasn't all that useful to him right now. He had more pressing concerns - as soon as aunt Petunia finished explaining about magical stuff, his uncle informed him that from the day after his birthday he would be starting doing chores to 'earn his keep'. That meant that he had only three full days more to forward his personal project without being bothered by the Dursleys. He sighed, sitting down and morphing into meditative position. His mind palace was almost ready, now he just needed to add some protective measures and he would consider it finished.

 **===#^#===**

"I have no idea how I can repay you," said Donald. He was very grateful, because if not for Hadrian's help, he would be in serious troubles with his parents for stealing their money to go to the cinema. Fortunately, Hadrian hearing about his predicament, has been able to lend him the same amount, and his parents never even suspected anything.

"Simply," Hadrian answered. "Just give me back my money this time. I still remember the last time, you know."

"I will, I promise" the boy said solemnly, but Hadrian could tell, that he wasn't sincere, which made him angry. Donald started saying something else, but Hadrian didn't hear him. At the same time he felt a subtle shift in his magic, the one that he always felt when danger approached. He quickly and discreetly looked around and saw, that a huge lorry was running towards them. It must have been left at the top of a hillock without brakes engaged, because it was coming completely silently. He thought quickly, and then stopped without letting Donald know.

 _I guess he won't keep that promise either_ , he thought, turning his face suitably shocked, which was probably expected of him now.

 **===#^#===**

"Donald was a good friend," he started his speech, his voice pained, eyes wet. "It was only a stroke of luck, that today I'm here, while he is there. I often ask myself, if I should have been more vigilant. Would Donald still be alive? What would we be doing? Perhaps we could be going to the cinema with other friends, or play chess... I... I..." He stopped, seemingly overwhelmed with emotions. I hope I don't overdo it, he thought. "While I will always remember Donald, I know that he wouldn't want us to grieve too much. He would want us to move on and live a full life. That's how he was. Sleep well, my friend." He stood down and rejoined the crowd, accepting words of sympathy from well-wishers.

 **===#^#===**

"Aunt Petunia?"

"What do you want?"

"I was wondering, if you know about any magical library where you could take me? I'd like to read a little about customs of wizarding world to make sure I won't be standing out."

"..."

"..."

"I know of a book store in London that supposedly has a hidden section with books about magic, or so Lily told me. We can go tomorrow, and if prices won't be overly high, I will buy you some."

 **===#^#===**

"Hadrian!" Petunia shouted. "Come here boy, there is a letter for you!"

He quickly descended down the stairs. He was waiting anxiously, and it's finally arrived - his Hogwarts acceptance letter. Hadrian took it from his aunt, immediately shredding the envelope, and reading the content.

 _ **HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**_

 _ **Headmaster:** Albus Dumbledore_

 _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

 _Dear Mr Potter,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

 _Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Minerva McGonagall_

 _Deputy Headmistress_

Hadrian felt like shouting with glee. He was accepted, he was going to leave this place, he was going to Hogwarts to study magic! Yes, he knew it was going to happen, but this, physical proof that all he heard and read till now was real, this finally drove it home. He quickly scanned second page.

 ** _HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_**

 ** _UNIFORM_**

 _First-year students will require:_

 _1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)_

 _2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_

 _3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

 _4\. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)_

 _Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags._

 ** _COURSE BOOKS_**

 _All students should have a copy of each of the following:_

 _ **The Standard Book of Spells** (Grade 1)_

 _by Miranda Goshawk_

 ** _A History of Magic_**

 _by Bathilda Bagshot_

 ** _Magical Theory_**

 _by Adalbert Waffling_

 ** _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_**

 _by Emeric Switch_

 ** _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_**

 _by Phyllida Spore_

 ** _Magical Drafts and Potions_**

 _by Arsenius Jigger_

 ** _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_**

 _by Newt Scamander_

 ** _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_**

 _by Quentin Trimble_

 ** _OTHER EQUIPMENT_**

 _1 wand_

 _1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_

 _1 set glass or crystal phials_

 _1 telescope_

 _1 set brass scales_

 _Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad._

 ** _PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS_** ** _ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK_**

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus_

 _Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions_

 **===#^#===**

"Aunt Petunia?"

"You have to simply walk through the wall between platform nine and ten. That's what she always did."

"Ah..."

"You can go or you can stay and come back home with me. It's your choice."

"Goodbye aunt Petunia."


	2. Chapter 2: First Year

**A/N:**

Enter chapter 2.

A few more issues came up that I feel need to be addressed.

\- I'd like to reaffirm, that the first few chapters are kind of unique, meaning that they are diffrent to the rest of the story. They are sort of recap, what happened in Hadrian's childhood, first year at Hogwarts, second and third, stylised to look like a short flashback to most important, defining moments in his early life. Do not be worried though, starting from year fourth onwards narration will change to mostly 'normal'.

\- at first I thought that I could do one-year-one-chapter recap, but after this chapter turned out with over 11k words it seems not really possible. I'll see what to do about that, perhaps I'll simply do two-chapters-one-year or something like this. Or not.

\- There are some text snippets where I use original JKR work. This won't happen often, and be mostly gone after third year is done, but I'd like to very clearly state, that they are not mine, they belong to JKR and I use them only so as not to reinvent the wheel when it's counter productive (like with Hogwarts acceptance letter). Other than that I only play in JKR's playground, hopefully coming with some original ideas - or if not, than I hope it's at least pleasant enough to read ;)

\- I'm terribly sorry, but I won't even try to emulate Hagrid's accent. I'm willing, however, to change the dialogues if there is someone that would "translate" them, from English to Hagrid'ish :)

\- This is the last "big" A/N at the beginning of the story. Next time I have something more to say, I'll do so at the bottom, with only trigger warnings (if applicable) at the beginning.

* * *

 **===#^#===**

It's been always a problem for those governing Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and Magical Britain in general, to move a certain, usually pretty high, amount of students across the whole British Isles. Hogwarts lies about four hundred and twenty miles north from London, in Scottish Highlands, quite close to Chno Dearg mountain. It's placement, at first, looked like a great idea. Surrounding mountains, forests and rivers made it a great outpost, one that could, should the need arise, be defended with just a skeleton crew - the nature did the rest. As the time passed however, it became obvious, that its remote localization had also some serious flaws. At first, most children attending school were from the neighbouring lands, usually no more than a day's ride by horse. With time and Hogwarts reputation spreading though, more and more parents wanted to send their offspring in. Had Hogwarts been build nowadays, it wouldn't be a problem, floo network would make sure of it. But floo network wasn't invented till seventeenth century, and the only other way of long-distance magical travel - namely apparition - while available to Middle Age Era wizards, was too dangerous and bothersome to be used for transportation of children.

That's how Hogwarts Express came to be. At first, it was serviced by just a few carriages, pulled by thestrals, travelling tirelessly north and south. Later on, when muggles invented rails, thestrals were retired - thanks to the magic, carriages could travel autonomously, as long as they had some way of guidance. It didn't take long for it to be replaced by what was standard to this day: shiny, old-schooled, seemingly coal-powered train.

Hadrian looked at it with awe. Having read some books on wizarding customs and traditions beforehand, he knew what to expect, but reading and seeing were two different things. After a while, he realised that he has been gaping, so he forced shut his mouth with an audible 'click', and decided to board and find an empty compartment.

 **===#^#===**

"Hi," said young, red-headed boy with more freckles than Hadrian could count to, that slid his compartment's door just moments after departing. Inwardly Hadrian scowled, he had no desire to deal with obnoxious children, and this here had 'obnoxiousness' written all over himself. He decided, however, to humour him and hope, that he quickly went away.

"Hello. How can I help you?" He inquired politely, with only a touch of coldness creeping in his voice.

"I'm Ron, Ron Weasley, and who are you? Did you hear that Harry Potter is going to be travelling on the train? I hope I can meet him, we'll be best friends, I just know it! I'm looking for him right now, do you know where he can be?" He said, all in one breath, and finished looking expectant. Hadrian stared at him, and then stared some more.

"And why," he drawled, but then thought better of it and shook his head. "Actually, never mind. I'm Hadrian, and no, I don't know where he might be, you should probably hurry though before he has his compartment full of other people," he advised.

"Oh!" The young Weasley exclaimed, making horrified face. "Thanks, gotta go then!" he darted out of the compartment, not even bothering to slid the door shut, prompting Hadrian to stand up.

"Good riddance," he mumbled. Then, as if struck by an idea, he quickly opened his trunk, and shuffled through it till he found a blank piece of paper and a pen. Just a few minutes later, anyone passing by would completely ignore his compartment, as it had its curtains shut and a fixed card that said, "OUT OF SERVICE".

This journey was shaping up to be very enjoyable and informative, as he shared his compartment only with a copy of "Hogwarts: The history".

 **===#^#===**

"You know, I'm pretty sure it's against the rules to sit in an out of service compartment. You can get in trouble," said a bossy girly voice, accompanied by the sound of the door opening. Hadrian silently cursed; and here he thought his idea was so clever. But then, it bought him almost two full hours of peace, so, probably, it kind of was.

"And I'm pretty sure it's _against the rules_ to barge into an out of service compartment as if you owned it," he answered in reply, the girl's cheeks reddening. "How can I help you, miss...?"

"I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Neville," she pointed at a chubby boy behind her who shyly waved. "We are looking for his toad, Trevor. Did you see it anywhere?"

"And why would a toad wander into an out of service compartment, that had its doors locked for the whole journey so far?"

"Well, obviously it had not, or you wouldn't be here," she reasoned. "So did you see it?"

"If I tell you that I didn't, will you please leave me alone?"

"You are a rude one, aren't you?" Hermione reddened even more and bristled.

Hadrian sighed. It was obvious, that if he couldn't get her to leave him soon, she would stay here and poison his remaining time with her whining.

"Listen," he said, his tone even, "I didn't see any toad, and I've been here for the whole duration of our journey. I'm currently reading a book about Hogwarts, and I'd _really_ appreciate it if you would let me do so in peace, miss Granger. In return, I'll help you with the search, how about that?"

The girl seemed to be actually considering it. Finally, she relented.

"Fine, we'll leave you alone, I for one can understand the need to read something in peace. How are you going to help us?"

"You need to find a prefect. There's at least one in every cart. They usually wear silver badge on their chest, and are fifth year's and older. They should be able to help you, probably with a summoning charm or something like this. In fact," he turned pensive, "I think you probably must have passed by at least one of them, as they are supposed to be patrolling the carts."

Hearing his simple idea, Hermione flushed.

"Of course, why haven't I thought about it? Come on Neville, I think there was a prefect few compartments back!" She declared, pushing the chubby boy out of Hadrian's compartment and leaving, without a word of goodbye.

 _And she says I'm the rude one_ , mused Hadrian.

 **===#^#===**

"First years, over here, follow me!" yelled a giant of a man, waving equally huge lantern. Seeing as all the first years fell in line behind the man, forming a loose formation, Hadrian followed them at the end. They walked for a few minutes until they reached what looked like a huge lake. Parked neatly one next to another sat small rickety looking wooden boats. "Hop in! No more than four in a boat!" Giant said, taking up one, slightly bigger boat all to himself.

Hadrian looked around. His decision to take back now proved to be faulty, as there wasn't any spare boats left, forcing him to choose his companions. The first four boats were already full, with fifth taken by Ron Weasley, a boy he was adamant to avoid, at least for now. He had no desire to be an object of constant buggering and incessant questioning. He was well aware of his status as "the boy who lived" in the wizarding world, but he found it stupid. Hadrian was, apparently, famous for something that he did not remember, and, quite probably, didn't do. Since he became aware of his story, he tried hard to remember something, anything. The mind palace technique was very helpful in this regard, but wasn't omnipotent; some things he was simply too young to remember. He had managed to recall few short moments of his everyday life before everything went to hell, but nothing of real importance. Then, darkness, and sometimes pain - till the day he was let out of his cupboard. What Hadrian knew, however, made him reasonably sure that the event that led to dark lord's ultimate demise was staged by his parents, and had nothing to do with him. Because, really - he scoffed - how could anybody believe that he, at that time barely a toddler, could vanquish a powerful sorcerer?

Finally, he moved forward, having chosen seventh boat, filled with only two girls.

"Good evening," he greeted them politely as he climbed in. Black haired girl smiled and welcomed him, as the boat started to move.

"Well met, my name is Amy McMahon, of house McMahon, and this is Daphne Greengrass, heiress presumptive of house Greengrass," she introduced themselves. Hadrian, recognizing formal wizarding greeting, reciprocated.

"Well met, my name is Hadrian Potter, heir apparent of house Potter," he declared, eliciting quickly covered gasps from both girls. He smirked, seeing their reaction. Being of most noble and noble houses, they were expected to carry themselves with dignity; gasps were definitely unbecoming. "Yes, I know," he raised his hand slightly, "I know that I'm the _boy who lived_. But frankly, I don't give a damn about this, and I would really appreciate it if you didn't make much fuss about it."

Daphe was the first to recover. "As if," she snorted, but smiled slightly. "So, what house do you think you'll be in?"

"Dunno," he shrugged. "Might be Ravenclaw or Slytherin, I guess. Most definitely not Hufflepuff."

"But weren't your parents in Gryffindor?" Amy interjected.

Before He could say anything, the giant man yelled, "Watch out! Keep your heads down!", as they approached stone arch over the water. The trio exchanged amused looks - they would have to jump to reach the arch at it's lowest point. Not everyone was so observant though; Hadrian saw that all the kids in Weasley's boat ducked their heads.

"They were," Hadrian confirmed, returning to their discussion. "But I'm not my parents, and I'm quite certain I'm not really all that similar to them."

"How come?" Daphe asked.

"No offense to you, heiress Greengrass, but I believe we are not acquainted well enough to explore such personal topics yet," he rebuked her mildly. "I will tell you this, however: I've grown in a very different manner compared to my parents."

Daphne blushed, realising how tactless her question was. She started to apologize, but at the same time they heard scared yells. They turned to the source of yelling and immediately noticed, that Weasley somehow managed to fall out of his boat, and was now wildly flailing his arms and legs. Some laughs were heard, as everyone noticed what was going on. Their guide came over to them, and fished Weasley out of water, seemingly without any difficulty.

"Idiot," Hadrian mumbled. "Did you see the way he was jumping around his boat just before he fell out?"

The rest of their journey was peaceful. Soon they got first glimpse of Hogwarts, and it was - nomen omen - magical. Even Hadrian, never the one to be overly emotional, felt something stir inside of him. _Finally_ , he thought.

 **===#^#===**

"Patil, Parvati!" called Professor McGonagall, and just a moment later an Indian looking girl hurried to be sorted. She was the second of the Patil twins. Her sister, Padma, has already been sorted and sitting at Ravenclaw's table. Sorting hat didn't take long; barely a minute passed, and Parvati was joining Gryffindor. Hadrian braced himself; he would be next.

"Potter, Harry!" he frowned. He was quite sure that not a single other pupil has been called by their diminutive name; He didn't like it. He wasn't about to cause a scene though, he would sort that out later - especially as the hall suddenly fell silent. Hadrian approached the stool, and slightly grimaced as the hat was placed uncomfortably on his head. Readjusting it slightly, he waited for whatever was about to happen.

"My, what a disturbing, yet curious mind you have here," a sudden voice spoke, startling him. "Don't worry, young Potter, it's just me, hat. I'm currently shifting through your mind to determine which house suits you best".

"What do you mean, shifting through my mind?" The boy demanded, not at all pleased. "Does this mean that you are reading my mind?"

"Calm down, child. I'm merely doing my job. As soon as I'm out of your head, I'll forget everything that I've seen here, so do not be afraid". Hadrian visibly relaxed. "Now, to the point. Where should I put you? Hufflepuff is most definitely out. With you unable to form any strong social bonds, you would destroy this house, so that is a no. Gryffindor, while perhaps has some merit, I believe is not an option as well. If I see correctly, you tend to think things through and prefer cunningness over bravery, which would make you a fine Slytherin. However..." The Hat mused. Hadrian let it; he knew, thanks to reading Hogwarts: The history, that no matter what, it wouldn't take longer than three minutes to the outside world to sort him, as that was the way it was enchanted.

"Ravenclaw," Hat continued, "would also make a fine choice for you. You are studious and like to learn things. Usually to achieve some goal, but sometimes also for the sake of knowledge itself. I think I know, what I will do. Before that though, I will ask you: where would you like to go?"

"Nah, none of that," Hadrian sniffed. "It's your job, and truthfully I don't really care where you put me."

"So be it. SLYTHERIN!"

 **#^#**

The hall fell silent.

 **#^#**

Ron Weasley froze. How could this be? A Potter, not in Gryffindor? Actually, scratch that: THE Potter not in Gryffindor? This must have been some sort of misunderstanding. The boy who lived couldn't be sorted anywhere else. But then, he remembered the way he was treated by Harry on the train, and something twisted inside of him. Perhaps... Maybe... Could it be? Could Potter be a dark wizard?

 **#^#**

"Albus!" silently exclaimed Flitwick, slapping the aged wizard between the shoulder blades, as he choked on his lemon drop.

 **#^#**

"Isn't it interesting?" Quirell mused. "What do you think, Severus?" he asked ashen faced Snape.

 **#^#**

"Poor boy," whispered, seemingly randomly, Sybil Trelawney, sipping tea in her favourite plush armchair.

 **#^#**

After initial silence, murmurs broke all around the hall which, by the time Hadrian made his way to Slytherin's table, turned to an all out uproar. Gryfindors were shouting the loudest, some even going so far as to suggest a foul play and demand resorting. Obviously, this didn't have any effect, as any resorting request would have to be brought before the board of governors by the interested party themselves, which Hadrian had no plan to. After the ensued chaos slowly subsided, professor McGonagall resumed calling remaining children forth.

 **===#^#===**

"And lastly, the third floor corridor is, this year, closed off because of some maintenance works. For your safety there are wards placed there, preventing anyone not authorised access. Please, do not try to bypass them. Thank you." With that final piece of information Dumbledore stood and gestured for the prefects to lead their youngest charges out.

 **===#^#===**

Slytherin's common room was located in a remote part of Hogwart's dungeons, with its entrance marked only by a small engraving of a snake on the, otherwise, plain wall. The fifth year prefect, Gemma Farley, made sure that all the new students could see and hear her, and than clearly stated, "Emerald." Immediately, a concealed stone door slid aside, leaving a rectangular portal. Once everybody was inside, Gemma ordered them to sit and wait for their head of house appearance.

It didn't take long. Severus Snape entered the common room through a different opening, that they would later learn, led directly to his private quarters. He stood before them, looking critically over each and every new member of his house. His gaze seemed to linger on Hadrian slightly longer than on other students, but this could have been a trick of light, he thought. Finally, having scrutinized all of them, Snape decided to speak.

"Welcome to the honourable house of Slytherin, the greatest house in Hogwarts," he said silkily. His voice calm and silent, commanding absolute attention. "You have all been chosen based on who you are and embodiment of what traits you are. Slytherin is the house for those ambitious and cunning, those that value slyness over rashness, intelligence over stupid bravery, being effective over being flashy. Therefore, there are certain things that are expected of you. Miss Farley." - he suddenly addressed the prefect. She didn't look surprised; in fact, it seemed that she was waiting for her turn, as she smoothly took over.

"Rule number one: you may not like each other, but all your squabbles will be resolved here, inside these walls. You will not fight amongst each other in public. You will show united front and always support each other out there. Slytherin house is not very much liked by other houses, and that's why you must always do so.

Rule number two: if there is some misunderstanding or a matter that you need to settle, you shall not fight here. We are the only house in school that has its own duelling arena. If you feel there is no other way, issue a formal challenge, and then seek one of us, prefects, to allow you to the arena. Rules that will apply there will be set depending on your skill level, gravity of the matter at hand and, obviously, law.

Rule number three: we are not Ravenclaw, and we do not value the knowledge in and of itself. We know, however, that more often than not, knowledge is power. That's why, with the beginning of your third year here, you will not only choose two or more additional subjects, but you will also decide which two subjects you want to focus the most on. This choice will be important, as you will be subjected to some in-house punishments if you will not apply yourself enough, and that's because we want you to have something that you excel at.

Rule number four: Don't break the rules. However, should you do something that, _theoretically and interpreted under certain circumstances_ , could warrant punishment... Don't. Get. Caught.

There are few more rules, which we will go over later, but for now I believe those are the most important ones. Professor Snape?"

Slytherins' head started speaking again.

"Thank you miss Farley. You will all do well to remember those rules and abide by them. Should you fail to do so... There will be consequences, be assured of that." He declared, looking menacingly over the crowd of first years. Then, after taking a breath, he continued. "Not unlike other houses, we have our own internal council. It is made up from seven students, each nominated by their respective year. The manner in which it is done is left to you. Most commonly it's done either by acclamation, if someone is highly respected, or by conquering over all the other contestants, in the duelling arena. However, it wouldn't be a precedent if you did this in an election or any other way you can think of. You are expected to choose your candidate by the first of October. If you fail to do so, the current council leader will nominate who he feels is best suited for that role."

New students looked over themselves unsure, some wondering if they could be appointed... And some, namely one blond boy flanked by two others, quite certain that he would be appointed. Meanwhile, Snape kept talking.

"You will be told more about the council in the coming weeks. Before I go, one last thing. I know, that some," he said, looking straight at Hadrian, "of you might feel themselves better, simply because of your celebrity status. Rest assured, you are not. Here in Slytherin you will have to prove that you are worthy, as we are not known to kneel simply before glamour or fame. And if I learn, that you are not applying yourself enough, or that your status has come to your head, I will be most displeased. Now, I'd like to wish you all a good night." and with this final tirade he was out of the common room, leaving a flabbergasted bunch of kids, and one equally flabbergasted prefect.

"Potter, I don't know what you did to him, but you better watch out for yourself, he is not the most forgiving head of house," advised Gemma, looking into calculating green eyes. "Now, before you go to your rooms, few more titbits of knowledge. Unlike other houses, each of our students gets their own room. Once you are free to do so, just follow the signs - you need to find yourselves in a first year corridor, and then find a correct name tag on the door. Your room is purposefully left quite bare; you'll find there a bed, a table with a chair and a wardrobe. If you want anything else, more furniture or a different decor, you'll have to learn how to manipulate your surroundings with magic... Or money.

Your lesson schedule will be handed tomorrow morning by professor Snape, during breakfast, so be there. This, along with end's year feast, is the only meal that you are required to attend, later on you might skip pretty much every meal of feast, be it a common day dinner, or a Samhain feast.

There is a school-wide curfew. You are not allowed to be out of your dorms after 10 pm and before half past five in the morning. Other houses also enforce an in-house curfew, but we here in Slytherin don't believe it's a good idea. You are here because you are supposed to be cunning and intelligent, so if you want to stay all night awake, be my guest, just don't expect any leeway from the teachers the next day. Thank you for your patience, you might go now."

 **===#^#===**

The room was indeed bare. Comfortable, but plain looking bed, simple wooden desk and a chair and a small wardrobe. He immediately set off to sleep - but not before changing the colour of the walls to beige. Colour changing spell was, thankfully, the first one he learnt, while still on the train.

He had good dreams.

 **===#^#===**

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death." stated, in a clearly well rehearsed speech, professor Snape. It's quite inspirational, Hadrian thought, until Snape added, with venom in his voice, "If you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads like I usually have to teach."

Well, it _could_ have been inspiring, if not for that foul remark at the end. Just what sort of standards they had here, in this school, to allow such blatant malice? Hadrian paid close attention to the teacher, as he started calling roll.

"Patil?"

"Here, Professor."

"Ah... Potter."

"Present, professor," quickly answered Hadrian. Snape however didn't move on but, instead, decided to make an impromptu quiz.

"Tell me, Potter, what kind of draught can be made from fresh, matured mandrakes?"

"All kinds of restorative draughts, sir," Hadrian answered easily. He has managed to read up the material for all his subjects up to third year. Snape didn't look impressed, but after a while spent scrutinizing the boy, went back to his roll.

 **#^#**

"Potter has managed to successfully answer my question. I wonder, if the rest of you has applied yourselves to your studies as well, shall we see? Weasley!" Snape called, causing the red headed boy to jump slightly. "What is the difference between slicing and chopping, in general?"

"And how should I know?" demanded Weasley.

Before Snape had a chance to say something, a bossy voice started speaking.

"Professor, I know the answer. Chopping, while less precise, can cause the ingredient to..."

"10 point from Gryffindor for your lack of brain and manners, Weasley," snapped Snape. "And further 10 points from Granger, I didn't give you leave to speak, girl." Hermione's mouth clicked shut, as she looked at him in shock.

"To answer your question, Weasley, you should know this, because this information is in the very first chapter of your assigned textbook. Let's try again, perhaps something even simpler, why is it important to rinse all ingredients that were not kept in a closed container before adding them to a mixture?"

Weasley scowled. "I don't know, why don't you ask the know-it-all over there, she obviously knows."

"Professor, professor, I do know! It is because if one wouldn't..."

And again, before she could finish her answer, Snape interrupted her.

"Miss Granger, you will control yourself or I will throw you out! You will only speak once I allow it, not whenever you feel like talking! That's another ten points from Gryffindor. And Weasley, you obviously didn't bother reading the book, which makes it pointless for you to even be here, as probably any and all your attempts at making a correct potion would fail in some spectacular manner. You will stay in class, but you won't be brewing with the rest of the class. Sit at the back and read the text. For today's assignment you just earned yourself a zero, and for your foul mouth you will spend today's evening with mister Filch in detention." he declared, looking decidedly gleeful.

Hadrian exhaled softly. It seemed that he was, temporarily, off the hook, as Snape found some other victims to torture. That was good, especially as he didn't like Granger and Weasley, and seeing them bullied like this provided some comedy relief. He would just have to make sure that he wouldn't come under Snape's fire.

 **===#^#===**

"To maintain transfiguration," Professor McGonagall taught, "the object in question must be constantly recharged, or, if it is not, must have a sufficiently high reserve of magic that was pumped into it earlier. So if I took this desk, and changed it to a pig, the time it would stay as a pig would depend on how much magic I used during the transfiguration, or if I kept pumping more magic. As a general rule, the bigger the object, the more magic it might store. That's why it is simple to transfigure a bigger object into a smaller - because you can fuel it with much energy from the beginning, and it will retain its new shape for longer. On the other hand, if for some reason you lacked the necessary strength, and only pumped it with enough power for a few seconds, with the thought that you would simply maintain it later, you'd find it much more difficult - because the object is already smaller, and can retain less magic. Yes, mister Thomas?" she acknowledged the Gryffindor boy as he raised his hand.

"I don't understand, professor. Why if I pump a lot of magic into a large object it then keeps it even though it's smaller, but if I pump it while it's already smaller, it behaves as if it was small from the beginning?"

"That's a very good question, mister Thomas, take two points. It's because of Andargen's Law of Energy. Unfortunately, this concept is quite complicated, and you won't learn about it in depth till you are in your NEWT-level class, as even a very simplified description would take almost full period. If you are really interested about this, please stay after class and I will direct you to a book that explains basics of this law."

Dean shook his head; he wasn't _this_ interested. Professor McGonagall returned to her lecture.

"Reversed principle applies if you would like to transfigure a small object to a bigger one. Firstly, it would be much harder, as the bigger you want it to be, the more magic you must pump, and the more resistance you meet. And before you ask, miss Granger, resistance is something that we will cover next week. Once you manage your transfiguration, it will stay in a desired form for a short time unless you load it with your magic. What is important, is that while it was troublesome to transfigure it, it's much easier to simply push a lot of magic now, and make it even semi permanent, if that's what you wish. Obviously, if you wanted things to last for a long time, you would have to either use the runes, which theoretically could make transfigured object stay in its new form forever, or pump a lot of magic, preferably with Preston's Law in mind. Now, I will give each of you a simple match..."

 **===#^#===**

"Stay here while I escort mister Longbottom to the hospital wing. On the ground," professor Hooch stressed. "If I learn that anyone was flying without supervision, you will find yourself out of this school faster than you can say 'Quidditch'." The stern flying instructor finished.

 **#^#**

"I warned you Weasley, you foolish child! What, do you consider yourself above listening to a teacher? Is that so? For now, it's a fifty points from Gryffindor, a week's worth of detention with Filch and I'll be speaking with your head of house about possible suspension. Also," Madame Hooch raised her hand, stalling Ron's objections, "your parents will hear about this."

"But professor, Malfoy was flying as well! I was chasing after him, because he stole..."

"Mister Weasley," She interrupted him. "I did not see mister Malfoy fly at all, while I could clearly see you showing off. What I said stands, and that is final. You are dismissed."

 **===#^#===**

"Good afternoon, class", said professor Quirrell primly, striding into class. He was a tall, well-built man, dressed impeccably in a black robes with silver-green lining. His visage was complemented by the jet black short hair, which were much better tamed than Hadrian's, and bright brown, almost reddish, eyes.

"This class is named Defence Against Dark Arts only because of political reasons," he begun. "It is stupid to only learn how to defend ourselves from the dark arts. Yes, they are potent. And yes, they are dangerous. But what is not usually being said out loud, is that other kinds of magic - light and grey - can be just as dangerous, destructive, deadly even. I see on your faces, that some of you are disbelieving. Miss Granger, do you need to use the facilities?" He asked the squirming girl, that tried to get his attention.

"No sir," she reddened. "I just wanted to correct you, you see, I have a textbook here that says that dark arts are the most dangerous and that's why we learn about them." She declared, happy that she could help the professor. Quirrell looked at her, no emotions visible.

"While I applaud your knowledge of the textbook, miss Granger, you will soon find, that the ministry approved texts tend to be one-sided at best, and completely false at worst," he said silently, watching as Hermione's features changed as she couldn't believe that someone, _teacher_ to that, would accuse books of lying. "I would also like to remind you, that I am teaching this subject for a fair number of years now, and while certainly possible for me to be incorrect, especially as far as some more advanced subjects in NEWT-years are concerned, rest assured, that I'm knowledgeable enough not to have to being _corrected_ by a first year student."

Granger flushed, once again rebuked by a teacher. Her attitude was atrocious, Hadrian thought. So far there was only one lesson that she had not gotten herself a dressing down from a teacher, and that was only because professor Binns was a ghost and didn't even acknowledge her.

"Moving on. I see some of you are disbelieving. Let me show you, what I mean." he took his wand out, and quickly conjured a human-sized mannequin.

"Ministry, and, indeed, those that decide of your subject curriculum, would have you believe that only dark arts need defending against. So, if, for example, I used... _Lacero!_ " he swished his wand at the mannequin, and everyone in class saw a deep red gash appear on its chest. "A mild dark cutting curse, it is something worth defending against. But if I used... _Diffindo!"_ Mannequin's arm fell of. "An overpowered _light_ cutting charm, it would be perfectly fine and not something that you have to shield against. Similarly, putting emphasis on defence against dark arts completely ignores other kinds of threats, for example kinetic attacks, that are considered battle transfiguration, a light branch of duelling." He said, once again using his wand, poking it towards the already maimed doll. A sharp metal spike appeared, accelerated and impacted, leaving the mannequin with a big hole where once it's head was.

To say that class was rendered speechless, wouldn't be enough. Quirrell smiled coldly. "You don't have to bring your DADA texts to my lessons, we won't be using them. That's it for the theory part of the lesson. As for the practice, we'll be now learning the kinetic shield."

 **===#^#===**

"I just don't understand how this could have happened, Albus," McGonagall said tiredly, over a glass of firewhisky. "I knew his parents very well, a model Gryffindor family if there ever was one! To think that he went to Slytherin..."

Albus sighed.

"I know, Minerva. I was as much surprised as anyone. Something must have happened in his childhood, that made him a Slytherin. I can only..."

"I knew those muggles were unfit to raise him!" she interrupted him hotly. "I told you this Albus, but you didn't listen, and now, now... This!" she spat, immediately gulping a large portion of her drink.

"It was for the best, I told you so then, and I still believe this now. Young Harry must have had a normal childhood, but even more importantly, a safe one. The blood wards around this house kept him safe." Headmaster insisted.

McGonagall seemed to deflate. They had this particular argument many times in the past, and she had no wish to repeat it. Instead she stood, and excused herself.

"I have a class of fifth years first thing in the morning, have a good night, Albus." she said and left his office.

Dumbledore sighed heavily. He did expect, that the boy would be different from his parents. He hoped however, that he would still land in a Gryffindor, or at least Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. Never in his worst dreams did he imagine, that the boy who lived, the vanquisher of Voldemort, would go to the Dark Lord's old house.

This wasn't good. But, at the same time, it wasn't very bad. The boy would merit closer observation and perhaps slightly more _personal_ interest in his education. It was important to make sure, that he did not stray to far from the ideals that he should possess.

 **===#^#===**

Hadrian happily fell into easy rhythm of Hogwarts' life. He was a good student, always well ahead of his classmates, always happy to help, and at the same time not the know-it-all like Granger. In a word, he was emulating his behaviour from the mundane public school, and as such, quickly got very popular amongst his peers. They even wanted him to take a spot on a house council, but he refused, saying he didn't have time for politics just yet. Instead, to everybody's shock, as they weren't at best terms, he gave his support to Draco Malfoy, effectively granting him the seat. His reasoning, while mysterious to Draco, was so simple it was a wonder the blond boy couldn't get it, especially as he prided himself on Slytherin's values. The ones perceived to be in power are always watched for their mistakes and held accountable, even if they don't really have any serious power. Draco, as a new council member, a first year, wouldn't be able to do anything all by himself, no matter how much he threw his father's name around. Hadrian, however, would be noticed by others as the one that decided about their representative. He was amused, that the younger Malfoy didn't see it; it was, after all, the very thing that his father was master of, always working from shadows and pulling strings.

It didn't feel like two months has already passed, when Halloween came. The whole castle got decorated with appropriate ornaments, pumpkins and scarecrows. While it surely looked festive, Hadrian wasn't sure what to think about it. On one hand, even here, in wizarding world, Halloween - a muggle festival - was slowly becoming a tradition. On the other hand, many traditional purebloods were whining about it superseding the real wizarding tradition, Samhain. He didn't care enough either way, but decided that he would put some more thought to it later, preferably before he had to make his opinion known because of in-house politics.

He was leisurely walking in the direction of the Great Hall, where Halloween feast was to take place. On his way he saw and heard a toilet's slamming door. This particular lavatory was one of the oldest, built in times when Hogwarts was boys-only school, and as such, didn't have a girl's counterpart nearby. At the same time it wasn't clearly marked, so now and then a girl would mistakenly wander in. Hadrian hummed. Now that he thought about it, he could use some relief. That he would learn what this ruckus was about, was an additional bonus.

 **#^#**

Crying. Girly crying. That's what he heard once he walked in, coming from the farthest stall. He casually strolled to one of the urinals, did what he primarily came here for, washed his hands and then cleared his throat. He was about to say something, but thought better of it, instead knocking three times on the stall's door. A muffled squeak, and an indignant reply followed.

"Go away!"

Wait. He knew that voice. He would have recognized it anywhere. His bane of existence, Granger. Oh how he loathed this girl, always putting her nose in other's business, citing books from memory as if they were law, interrupting lessons, even interrupting his library sessions, going so far as to report him to madame Pince for reading books ' _not suitable for children his age_ '. He stared at the stall she was hiding in, shrugged, and took his wand out.

" _Quies,_ " he cast a mild silencing charm on himself, and then, knowing that she couldn't hear him, " _Colloportus_ ", on her stall, effectively locking her in. If she wanted to be there, who was he to deny her that? He finished his work by adding another mild silencing charm on her stall, and then resumed walking towards the hall.

 **#^#**

The feast was nearing its end, when suddenly Hall's door opened, and in quickly marched the caretaker, Argus Filch. He looked agitated, and strode as fast as he could towards the teachers' table. He conferred in hushed whispers with Dumbledore, who then stood up and let out a bang from his wand, immediately calling all attention to himself.

"May I have a silence! It has been brought to my attention, that a magical creature was let loose in the castle. We, the professors, will now go and search for it. While we are away, you will stay here and enjoy your feast. To make sure nothing bad happens, the door will be sealed, and professor Quirrell will stay with you. Once the danger is no more, we will return."

And with that most of the teachers left. _Strange,_ Hadrian mused, _why would they take squib Filch_ _with them? It's not as if he could help in any way._ And then another thought, _I wonder what's Granger doing?_ He mentally shrugged and returned to his delicious meal.

 **#^#**

"She has been locked and silenced in the stall, Albus, that's the only reason she's even alive," said professor McGonagall, explaining how she found her student. Most of the teachers converged just outside the hospital wing, where heavily injured Hermione Granger was being treated. "And yet, at the same time, had she not been locked in, she probably wouldn't even be there when the troll barged in..." She finished quietly.

"Were you able to read the magical signature of the spell caster?" Snape asked.

"No," deputy headmistress sadly answered. "The troll did so much damage that it simply got erased. It didn't help that those two spells have a very weak magical trace anyway."

Albus sighed. This was very troubling development. While it could surely have been a misguided attempt at pranking, especially as the Granger girl wasn't overly popular, it could have also been something much more sinister. As soon as he heard about the troll, he immediately set off to the third floor, even going as far as using several secret corridors known and available only to him, in his capacity as a headmaster. However, he had to abandon his observation post of the door once he got a Patronus from his deputy, requesting assistance in dealing with the troll posing a danger to one of his charges. Since then, he couldn't check if the third corridor has been breached. He could only hope, that his safety measures were enough.

 **#^#**

Hermione Granger's injury caused a huge scandal, especially after it was revealed, that someone was responsible for locking her in the stall. All the heads of houses were on a manhunt, looking for the culprit. Every known troublemaker was interrogated, starting obviously with the Weasley twins. Then it became known, that the reason Granger even was in the toilet was Ron Weasley - and so he got grilled as well. Several others went under scrutiny, but all for naught, as the professors couldn't identify who was the one behind the spells.

That's when heads called each of their respective houses' population to gather in their common rooms, and asked if anybody knew something that could help. Nobody came forth. Once they were let go, Hadrian sighed; this whole debacle became really bothersome and he hoped they would give up their fruitless search soon.

 **===#^#===**

The first time Hadrian has seen a snowy Hogwarts was at the beginning of November. It wasn't till the Christmas though, that the white cover stayed for longer. Hogwarts covered in snow looked straight from fairytale, Hadrian mused. It was absolutely amazing, made even more so, that everyone could walk outside and not get cold, as there were warming charms placed on each person the moment they crossed castle's threshold.

"A fine piece of magic, which requires to be charged every other day," Flitwick revealed during one of their lessons. "Or even more often, depending on the traffic!"

A week before the Christmas, a list appeared, asking all willing to stay in the castle during the holidays to sign in. Hadrian didn't hesitate in doing so; he would be damned if he got back to his relatives a day faster than he absolutely had to. He was in a minority, however; of all his year, he was the only one staying. And so in an empty common room did he found himself the evening before Christmas. He didn't mind the emptiness. Even though he had nothing against socialising, he felt equally fine all by himself. Even more so, as no people meant possibility for an uninterrupted castle exploring, something that he was itching to do so ever since reading an old, second-hand book from the book store his aunt took him to. It was obviously heavily used and well worn; The title however made it irresistible: "Hogwarts' lost secrets".

He remembered very well his shopping trip to Diagon Alley, and his unsuccessful attempt to buy a newer edition from Flourish&Blotts.

 **\\\\\\\==/**

"Excuse me, sir, I was looking for the newest edition of 'Hogwarts' lost secrets', can you point me in the right direction?" Hadrian asked politely the clerk, who, in turn, scratched his head.

"I believe Ministry of Magic, Department of Mysteries would be the correct place, young man," he said amused after a while. "It's said that they keep their time-turners there. Although I doubt they have one that could take you two centuries back."

Hadrian stared, and stared some more. Eventually he nodded, apologised for the trouble and continued his shopping. _Lost secrets indeed_.

 **/==\\\\\\\**

The book was, it seemed, purely practical. There were no drawn-out deliberations about history of the castle or, in fact, any theory at all. Instead, it had plenty short chapters, each dedicated to a different secret and divided into sections: a short abstract, a description how to find a certain place, sometimes with a hand-drawn map, instruction how to access it, and its main features.

The very first place that Hadrian tried were kitchens. He found the appropriate corridor and painting, and then tickled - feeling very stupid - the pear, which immediately squirmed, laughed and transformed into a knob. He entered, and was promptly accosted by a bunch of strange creatures, ones he's never seen before, but known to be house elves. Hadrian greeted them politely, and told them, that he just wanted to thank them for all their hard work.

Which caused them to gasp and fawn over him. He knew, that an appreciated house elf would be invaluable later, but didn't think that the effect of one simple praise would be quite so dramatic. Seeing the opportunity however, he quickly seized it and spent some time with the little creatures, asking them various questions about the castle itself. Finally, after spending there over half an hour, he decided to ask them something else.

"Say, do you know of any castle's secret, that you could tell me, that isn't widely known?"

The elves conferred for a while in a hushed tone, and then one very excitable elf spoke, "Yes master Hadrian, we is knowings of such place! We is calling it a come and go room, and it is very useful!"

"Come and go room? What does it do?"

"It is being most magickey room in the castle young master. Is on a seventh floor and you must walk before the wall and think what yous wantings and it gives you it!" The excitable elf said.

 _Interesting_ , mused Hadrian. He was sure, that his book didn't have anything about such a room. If what the elves were saying was true, it could prove invaluable.

"Could you take me there?" He asked politely, to which they nodded vigorously.

"I is taking you master!" One of them volunteered. "I is Tinky. You must going to seventh floor, I meet you and show!"

And so he did. Hadrian thanked all the elves profusely for their hospitality, promised to visit again, and left - but not before being gifted with lots of sweets and fruits. He made a quick stop in Slytherin's dorm, which thankfully were not far, to unload, and then hurried to seventh floor, where his guide has already been waiting.

"Young master!" it squealed, and took him by hand. "You must rememberings, the come and go room is being opposite this terrible painting!" it said, pointing at the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy. Hadrian raised his brow; opposite of the painting there was but a bare wall. He wasn't overly sceptical though; entrance to Slytherin's Common Room was also hidden, after all.

"You is now must walk roundings few times thinking what is yous wantings from the room and door will appears," Tinky explained.

The boy thought for a second, what would he want the room to look like, and then paced back and forth concentrating on the image he had. The fourth time he turned around he noticed, that where once was a bare wall, now stood a plain wooden door.

"Bravo, master Hadrian! I must goings back to kitchen now, young Master Hadrian!" Tinky made her excuses. One short pop later and Hadrian was all alone. _No time to lose, I guess_ , he thought, opening the door and stepping in.

Inside was outside. Thinking of what to ask the room to look like, he decided to try something difficult, and went for a small summer forest meadow, near the water, with a full basket of food. As he went in, he noticed that everything was exactly as he imagined, from the juicy green grass to blue skies and lazy stream. Well, everything except the basket's contents; instead of food, he found a book called 'Fundamental principles of Magic: Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration'. He snorted; at least he knew that this room had some limitations. Still, if it could create a huge forest, a flowing stream and skies with the weather completely independent to what really was outside, what else could it do?

 **===#^#===**

First day of Christmas greeted Hadrian with lots of presents sitting neatly next to his bed. He quickly checked who they were from; not surprisingly, almost everyone from his year and house sent him something, which by itself was rather powerful political statement. He shrugged; he knew it was a good thing, but he didn't want to get into politics yet. Perhaps next year, or the year after...

One present captured his attention. It was unlike the others; small, soft to the touch and without any identifying marks. He carefully opened it. Inside there was a soft fabric cloak, that seemed almost translucent and a small piece of paper, which read, 'use it well'. _Curious_ , he thought. He put the cloak on the bed, and with a soft gasp noticed that it made presents underneath invisible. Quickly, Hadrian snatched the cape and put it on himself. It was as he suspected: the parts of himself that he could normally see, were now invisible.

 _Well, well, well... This might prove useful_.

 **#^#**

'Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi', the inscription on the mirror said. Hadrian tilted his head slightly. _I show not your face but your heart's desire,_ written backwards. Not really all that creative, he mused. Now, what should he do? Shall he get closer, and find out what exactly that is and does? Or should he, perhaps, ignore this, obviously powerful, magical artefact? He hesitated for a second, but then walked away and left the room. Such an item could possibly be dangerous, and it would be foolish to use it without knowing exactly about its workings.

 **#^#**

Hidden in a corner of the room, Albus Dumbledore sighed silently, seeing the leaving form of Harry Potter. He hoped the mirror would allow him some insight into the boy's life, but alas it was not to be. He quickly dispelled his own enchantments, those that would record what young Potter would see, and banished the mirror to its permanent location. _What now?_

 **===#^#===**

It was only by chance that Hadrian learnt that the Keeper of Grounds, Hagrid, had something highly illegal in his hut. He was sitting in a library, reading some advanced books on transfiguration, when he noticed that Granger was _lurking_. Now that was interesting. Ever since her unfortunate troll incident, and subsequent recovery, Granger got even more bossy and self-righteous, thus driving the wedge between herself and the rest of school population deeper. And, coincidentally, driving Hadrian crazy, because apparently she decided that him being better or even equal to her was a personal affront, and tried doing everything to show off and obstruct him. Every time she answered the question correctly, she sent a smug look toward him - as if he cared what she was doing. _Ridiculous_. She was being very predictable; she would spend most of her free time in library, surrounded by first year books and recommended literature, always frowning when she saw him collecting more advanced books.

But lurking was not something that she did. It piqued his curiosity. Perhaps he could get her in trouble? He quickly donned his invisibility cloak and followed her. Soon he found out what she was reading; a book on... _Dragons? What the hell?_

 **#^#**

From there, it was easy to follow her, and find out that Hagrid managed to get a hold of a real dragon's egg. He considered carefully what should he do about this. Or should he? Wouldn't it be better to leave it be and not become engaged in any way? He was almost convinced, that this would be the correct choice, but then, one night, he remembered that dragon eggs were very expensive on black market. And he would soon be heading back to his relatives. Or would he? Perhaps, if he had some money on him, he wouldn't have to...

 **#^#**

 _There!_ He quickly found the information he was looking for in one of the books he saw earlier, being read by Granger.

 _'Dragon's egg is very durable, compared to other species' eggs. It is not, however, indestructible. That is the main reason it is always kept in a nest where at least one adult dragon is always present. To hatch, the egg needs the heat. The warmer it is, the faster it will do so, but typically no sooner than after one month of constant heating. That's why, in captivity, if one want's the dragon's egg to hatch, one would have to keep it warm at all times, preferably in a fire or under constant warming charms. On the contrary, if one were to transport or store the egg, it should be kept cold - but not frozen. An egg kept at approximately room temperature won't hatch; instead, the life inside will be suspended till the egg is warmer.'_

 **#^#**

Hadrian, cloaked in invisibility, with a silencing charm applied to his boots and magically removed scent, stood close to the hut's door. He knew that Hagrid's duties included patrolling the forest, and that he did so with his dog. It was, therefore, just a matter of time till he would be able to sneak inside. He has chosen Saturday, so that he didn't have any classes and could wait as long as necessary. Ultimately it took just over two hours; he was just glad for warming charms and the fact, that it was already early april, with it's warmer weather.

Once he saw the door opening, he bolted closer; he had to be close enough to actually be able stop the door from closing and locking. There was a possibility, that he could be caught doing that; Hagrid's dog was, well, a dog, and could probably detect his presence. Even more so as he couldn't manage a more thorough scent-removing spell, and had to do with the weaker version that simply removed his scent at the moment of casting; meaning that he had to use it at a correct time, or the dog would sniff him. All went well, however, and just a short moment later he found himself in the hut.

It wasn't overly large; there was, for all purposes, just one big room, with an adjacent toilet. That's why it wasn't difficult to find the egg; it was in the most obvious place possible: the fireplace. _Honestly, is he really that stupid? He wants to have a dragon here, in his wooden hut?_ Hadrian snorted. He could actually be doing something good by this little act of thievery.

A quick cooling charm and a levitation charm, and he was going back to the castle, unseen by anyone. Now he would have to figure out what to do with an actual egg of a dragon - but since it was slightly cooled, and he would make sure to keep it that way, he was in no hurry.

 **===#^#===**

 _Here goes nothing_ , Hadrian thought as he finished pacing before the wall on the seventh floor. He went in and smiled, seeing a modern-looking gym, fitted with all the equipment that he would ever need, as well as a shower room. He quit the room, and began pacing anew. This time, when he opened the door, he saw a magical shooting range, completely with mannequins not unlike the one professor Quirrell used, and a control panel. _Perfect_.

 **===#^#===**

Shortly before the end of term exams, an interesting news spread around the castle like a wildfire. Apparently, three young boys from Gryffindor tried to magically combat professor Snape, supposedly to stop him from acquiring some sort of magical artefact. Obviously it didn't end well for them. Ronald Weasley, Seamus Finnigan and Neville Longbottom, aside from spending the night in hospital wing, almost got thrown out of Hogwarts and lost so many points, that were they not zeroed before each new year, Gryffindor wouldn't stand a chance at winning a cup for a few more years. It wasn't exactly clear, why they didn't get thrown out; it was only rumoured that, perhaps, there was some truth to their claims about some artefact being endangered. A few students tried to connect it with the closed off corridor on the third floor, but as far as everybody knew there really was a conservation effort going on there, as sworn by Weasley twins who, obviously, managed to bypass the wards and take a peek inside.

The whole thing got even more confusing, as on a first day of exam week another rumour started. This time, if one were to believe it, it was professor Quirrell duelling professor Babbling. It didn't exactly make much sense, as nobody knew why would they do that, but the fact was, professor Babbling went missing, and some students were swearing they saw a covered body taken out of school grounds by a pair of Aurors.

Hadrian didn't give a damn either way, as he focused on his studies and exams. He did care, however, that professor Quirrell stayed at school, and it looked like he would be staying for longer - despite the supposed curse placed on DADA position. Quirrell quickly became his favourite teacher, and Defense - a favorite subject. He was learning lots, often asking for additional tips, suggestions and reading material. And the professor was happy to oblige - he liked Hadrian as well, treating him as sort of apprentice.

 **===#^#===**

And so, that was the way the school year ended: not with a bang, but a whimper. A whimper coming from Gryffindor house, that, despite leading in points just a mere month ago, managed to achieve the lowest score in Interhouse Cup Challenge ever, with them standing at abysmal negative four hundred and thirty five points - all courtesy of three boys, first years. Second lowest score belonged to Ravenclaw - three hundred and twenty two points. The silver medal went to Slytherin, with three hundred and ninety points, while Hufflepuff won the cup, managing to get exactly four hundred points. It was a big surprise, with none surprised more than the Puffs themselves; it was the very first time in a almost a century that their house managed to win the cup. Before they could properly celebrate though, Dumbledore stood up and asked for attention.

"Before you all dig in and celebrate the end of another school year, there are some matters that need attending to. First of all, I would like to inform all of you that our Ancient Runes professor, Bathsheda Babbling, unfortunately passed away yesterday. She has been afflicted with an untreatable magical malady, and was fighting for her life at St. Mungo's hospital for a few weeks now. We will all remember her as an amazing tutor and great friend. May she rest in peace," Dumbledore said gravely. The hall went silent for a minute, after which headmaster continued. "Professor Quirrell offered to fill up for Ancient Runes post the next year meaning, that we will greet a new DADA teacher come next year. Now," he said, raising his goblet, "I believe congratulations are in order. A magnificent job truly, Hufflepuff, you outdid yourselves! A well deserved victory, if I may say so. Now dug in, and have a great summer!" he finished, his eyes twinkling.

 **#^#**

Hadrian was almost done with his packing. He was about to go out and enjoy summer sun with his companions, but suddenly a huge flaming bird - a phoenix - appeared before him, with a note tied to it's leg. Hadrian cautiously untied it and read it.

' _Please join me in my office, Harry. Fawkes will transport you if you are ready_." Signed by Dumbledore. He felt a flash of annoyance at being still addressed as Harry, even though he tried his best to dissuade the staff from doing so. It mostly went fine, with the exception of headmaster, it seemed. He sighed, and said,

"Very well. And you are, if I understand correctly, Fawkes?" The bird nodded. "Okay, let's go," he sighed again.

 **#^#**

"Harry, my boy, so good to see you," greeted Dumbledore. "Have a seat. Lemon drop? How has your first year been?"

"It's been good, headmaster, and thank you," Hadrian answered, not offering any more details. "Why did you summon me sir, did I do something wrong?"

"Not at all my boy, not at all. I simply wished to inform you about your living arrangements."

Hadrian went still. He had no time to do anything with the dragon, and so he assumed he would be going back to Dursleys. Did they somehow informed Headmaster about the change of plans? Did they not want him back? Would he be going to an orphanage? His head swirled with possible scenarios.

"Headmaster?"

"You have to go back to your relatives, Harry, you know that?" Dumbledore looked at him.

"Where else would I go?" Hadrian asked confused. The aged wizard didn't make much sense.

"I just wanted to reaffirm how important it is that you stay there, in that house, and not wander too much."

 _Wait. What?_

"Pardon me headmaster, but what business is it of yours? You are, as far as I'm concerned, only my school's headmaster, and acting as my guardian while I'm at school, am I not right?"

The twinkle disappeared.

"I am acting in loco parentis, and as such..." He didn't finish though, as Hadrian waved dismissively his hand and interrupted him.

"In loco parentis you might be acting, but only while I'm at school, the moment I'm out I'm not under your guardianship anymore, I know the law headmaster, believe me, I've researched it quite thoroughly."

"I'm simply doing what I believe is best for you, my boy. You will be safest there," Dumbledore tried saying amicably.

"That may be so headmaster, but it still changes nothing, as you have no right to decide what I do while I'm not at school. Is that all, may I go?"

Headmaster looked at him for a minute, looking disappointed. However when it became obvious he wouldn't be getting any reaction from the boy, he let go and allowed him to leave.

 _Strange man, that Dumbledore. I wonder if he summons all children and tells them, that they have to go back to their homes?_

 **===#^#===**

"Mister Potter, a word, please." Hadrian stopped walking toward the train, hearing professor Quirrell address him.

"Go, I will find you in a compartment," he told his friends, and followed his teacher. "Yes, professor, what can I do for you?"

"Mister Potter, are you aware what happened a month ago, that concerned me and professor Babbling?"

Hadrian looked at Quirrell. While to most of the students DADA professor seemed stern and serious, Hadrian knew him well enough to recognize a mirth hidden behind his serious facade most of the time, as if he was amused to be teaching the school children defending themselves against whatever they could encounter. This time, however, there was no hidden mirth.

"I only heard rumours," Hadrian answered cautiously. "That you fought and possibly killed her."

"Ah... Well, they are not exactly rumours. Mister Potter, what happened is, I believe, something that might concern you. Would you be amicable to a meeting, say, in a two weeks time, in Diagon Alley?"

The boy was taken aback. He knew it wasn't really appropriate for a teacher to suggest a private meeting with a student. On the other hand, Quirrell didn't really seem like the type to abuse young boys, and with a public place not much could go wrong, could it? Moreover, he liked and trusted his professor; and if said professor thought something important enough...

"I would, though it might take some more time, as I'll have to do some _convincing_ at home," he admitted.

"That is fine, mister Potter. Just owl me once you are certain; give me a date and I will do my best to be there. Now, have a good summer, mister Potter." And with that, he quickly left.

 **#^#**

"What did he want?" Theodore Nott asked curiously.

"He was just asking if I wanted some extra reading for summer," Hadrian easily answered, eliciting exasperated groans and laughs from his friends. "Who wants to play?" He asked, setting up his chess set.


	3. Chapter 3: Second Year pt 1

"How was it?" Asked Petunia expressionlessly, carefully keeping her voice even. It was the first time she has spoken to Hadrian for two days, after his return from Hogwarts.

"How was what?" Hadrian answered, unsure what his aunt wanted.

"Your... School. How was it?"

 _How bizarre._

"It was good," he replied. "It's very interesting place, and I learned a lot."

"Do you have any..." She slightly hesitated, "friends?"

 _Ah, so that's what this is about._

"None that would like to come and visit me, aunt Petunia," he assured her. "Not unless I invite them over, of course."

"We would... Appreciate... If you didn't," she coughed slightly. "If you want, I could take you to the city and you could meet them there, if that's what you like."

Who would have thought, that the mere idea of hosting a bunch of magical kids would scare them so much as to become _helpful_? Not the one to pass on an opportunity, Hadrian immediately jumped on it.

"Actually, aunt Petunia, there's going to be a meeting in Diagon Alley in two weeks time, and then another, at the end of the summer, to gather everything for school. Do you think you could take me there?"

"I suppose... I could," she answered, obviously troubled by the fact that she would have to be Hadrian's chauffeur. "But you have to earn it, boy," she quickly regained her resolve, and started making a list of chores for him.

 **#^#**

 _Professor Quirrell,_

 _I can meet you in two weeks time, on Saturday, around noon, by Gringotts._

 _HP_

 **===#^#===**

Hadrian decided that he would visit Gringotts first, and then wait for his professor. After standing in a short line for a few minutes and showing the teller his key, he was quickly transported down to his vault with Griphook, again, as his guide.

"Say, Griphook," Hadrian decided to ask. "Are you somehow assigned to me or my account, or is it just a coincidence?"

"Excuse me mister Potter, but I do not know what you are talking about."

"I mean, the last time I've been here it was also you that escorted me here, and I wondered..."

"Say no more, young wizard. No, I'm not assigned to Potter accounts, however you could say that I'm assigned to you, as I have under me all the trust vaults belonging to those without a proper magical guardian."

"Magical guardian?" Hadrian asked. He's read quite a few books on wizarding customs and laws, and yet he couldn't remember this term.

"A magical guardian is someone who is magical, and whose blood you share," Goblin explained. "It is not a legal term, or at least it's not really used anymore, but since Gringotts is governed by ancient Goblin laws, and not your human laws, we still use it."

"I see," he mused. "You say 'not really used anymore', does this mean that theoretically it could be done and I could gain a magical guardian?"

"You could, if you managed to find someone with your blood willing to adopt you. But it wouldn't mean much legally, not unless they completed the full ministry adoption process."

"So it's pretty useless?"

"Depends if you'd like to do much business with Gringotts," Griphook said, showing his teeth in a predatory smile. "Say you had a trust vault and a main vault, that you had no access to. Normally you would have to wait till you are legally emancipated and seventeen, to be able to access it. However, if you had a magical guardian, said person could access your main vault even today, and even without Ministry's consent."

 _Interesting... But yeah, useless._

They arrived at a correct vault door, and Hadrian started piling gold coins into his purse.

"Is there any more convenient way to use my money, without the need to collect it every time?"

"Obviously," Goblin said quickly. "In most stationary stores you can pay with your key; they have a special parchment where you only stamp it and sign. For long-distance purchases we have cheques, to be collected from any teller."

"No credit card?" Hadrian half-joked.

"The what?"

"Nevermind."

 **#^#**

"Griphook, is there any chance that I might have some unknown wealth, accounts, lordships, possibility to become emancipated or something like that?"

Goblin snorted, but then smiled.

"I highly doubt it, young wizard. We can set up an inheritance test if you'd like?"

"How long would it take, and how much would I have to pay?" Hadrian answered cautiously.

"A hundred Galleons fee and about half an hour of your time."

"Erm... Okay then."

 **#^#**

"Take this dagger, mister Potter, and bleed into this bowl, if you may."

 **#^#**

The older goblin looked intently on the piece of parchment.

"Well, mister Potter..."

Silence dragged on for about half a minute.

"It's good you came to do this test," he stated. "Now we know with certainty, that as of now you are only entitled to Potter trust vault, and will gain access to the main vault once you reach your maturity."

Hadrian sighed. He did expect it, but...

"So, no hidden lordships or vaults overflowing with money?"

"I'm afraid not. You will, however, gain totally not hidden lordship once you are emancipated, together with a rather full Potter main vault. We look forward to see you then, mister Potter."

Seeing the dismissal for what it was, Hadrian stood up, left the office and then quit the bank.

 **===#^#===**

"Mister Potter, it's good to see you," greeted him professor Quirrell once he stepped out of the bank.

"Good morning professor, I hope you didn't have to wait long?"

"Not at all, I've just arrived. Should we recess to a more comfortable place? May I suggest Leaky Cauldron?"

Hadrian shrugged, and showed him to lead the way. A short while later they sat comfortably in two chairs, opposite each other, and drank tea. Professor Quirrell took his wand surreptitiously and cast few quick area effect spells, of which Hadrian recognized only notice-me-not and silencing charm. They wouldn't be interrupted.

"Mister Potter," started Quirrell seriously. "I'd like to tell you a story. Please do not interrupt me, I will let you ask some questions once I'm done, Is that acceptable?"

Hadrian nodded his head, curious what this was about.

"I used to be a Muggle Studies teacher at Hogwarts, and I taught that subject for almost ten years before deciding, that I'd rather prefer something more practical. It just so happened, that I have always been a good dueller, ever since my school years. There is a common misconception, that it is the headmaster that approves candidates for teaching posts; in reality however, he only weeds out those not well suited for such a job, while the board makes a final choice. I've been approved by Dumbledore, however my duelling prowess wasn't enough to convince the Board of Governors to let me take the DADA post. I wasn't dissuaded; I had some savings, and quit Hogwarts for a year as a sabbatical. During this one year I've travelled for the better part, and studied various branches of magic throughout the world. Let me tell you, mister Potter, magical libraries are seldom appreciated enough. By the time I was back, there was a new Muggle Studies teacher, and the DADA post was rumoured to be cursed. I was also much better prepared to fill in the DADA post; I had an Eastern European Duelling Champion title, and managed to write a book on dark creatures roaming Albanian forests. This time I was approved, and I've kept this job ever since.

I mentioned Albania or a reason, Mister Potter. Albania is a small country bordering Greece, known to the magicals for their numerous dark forests. It is said, that there are lots and lots of dark creatures in them, that as of yet haven't been catalogued. In general, people tend to keep out of them; most are surrounded by almost palpable, heavy dark or even black aura, and there are many legends about daredevils that's been lost forever. I was one of those daredevils. Except, obviously, I wasn't lost forever..." Quirrell floundered for a moment, quickly getting back on track.

"I've seen and killed many unknown creatures, mister Potter. I was almost killed thrice. Once, I even got possessed by a dark spirit. Fortunately, it was too weak to force itself on me; it, instead, tried to tempt me with promises of power and revenge on those that wronged me. I'm not weak minded, Mister Potter, in fact, I'm quite an accomplished occlumens. I didn't fall in the trap, but I also couldn't destroy it. All in all, I managed to survive and come back from that accursed, yet fascinating, place.

Imagine my surprise, when two years ago Bathsheda Babbling announced that she would be leaving on a sabbatical to the forests of Albania and Greece. She claimed it was to better understand Ancient Greeks' ways, their methods of creating wards and traps. I tried do dissuade her, convince that she wasn't skilled enough to survive there. Unfortunately, that woman was _very_ stubborn, and ignored my advice completely." He stopped talking for a sip of water, then continued.

"If her announcement was a surprise, even bigger one was the fact, that she came back. She was always a very knowledgeable witch, make no mistake. But she was more the scholarly type, not the fighter. She knew lots and lots about runes and their practical application, but... No, she wouldn't be able to stand against an average fifth year student.

At first, it seemed that everything was fine with her, but then I noticed some irregularities. She would sometimes talk to herself, or maybe even argue with herself. She would disappear for a day or two, usually on weekends, when before her trip she would always stay in the castle. No one change was alarming in and of itself, but put together, I was worried. I went with my concerns to Dumbledore, but he disregarded them." Quirrell went silent for a minute. Just when Hadrian was about to prompt him, professor started talking again, seemingly changing the subject.

"Do you know, Mister Potter, that the restoration works on the third floor corridor where, in fact, just a smokescreen? That, in reality, the school housed a very powerful magical artefact?" Hadrian shook his head. "Dumbledore's first idea was to simply announce that this corridor was off limits for anyone that doesn't have a death-wish. Fortunately, I managed to talk him out of this exceptionally stupid idea, and instead successfully pushed for this 'renovation' story.

This artefact, that I won't name as it's not important, was guarded by a few powerful obstacles. Each teacher added something of their own specialty; for example, professor Sprout provided some Venomous Tentaculas, professor Babbling created a set of rune-powered wards, and I cursed random items that anyone willing to go through would be likely to step on or touch. As a final countermeasure, Dumbledore put it inside a specially crafted mirror, that judged by intent and then added his own set of wards. However..." He hesitated. "The fact is, that while dangerous, everything that we did wasn't as powerful as it could have. I wanted to use withering curses, that would severely weaken and possibly kill anyone affected, professor Flitwick wanted to add goblin wards that would simply block anyone from crossing a certain threshold, and professor McGonagall suggested creating a pocket dimension guarded by a blood-signature-based wards. Dumbledore wouldn't hear of it though; he claimed that they were too dangerous to be used in school, and so we had to limit ourselves. As a result, what was left was an obstacle course; a difficult one, yes, but one that could, in a certain circumstances, be passed by a determined student. I wasn't happy about this, and that's why I added my own ward, something that headmaster didn't know about, which would act as an alarm, immediately notifying me if a breach was detected.

That's what happened on a first day of your exams, Mister Potter. I received an alarm, and I hurried there. When I arrived on-site, I found Bathsheda, only she was no longer. When I confronted her, she spoke to me in a male voice; one that I instantly recognized as belonging to the spirit from Albania. We duelled, and I killed it. Except I didn't. The spirit fled her body, and with that, she crumbled to the floor, dead. I didn't even use anything overly powerful; a constant drain from being possessed must have killed her.

Why I'm telling you this, mister Potter, is because of a few things. First off, because Albus Dumbledore told me to do so. Now I'm not one of his lackeys; in fact, I flat out refused. But I happen to have some fondness for you, Potter, and so I decided to let you know, that headmaster has something in store for you. The second reason is also Dumbledore; throughout the year he was nudging me to reveal to you, and I mean the whole first year, subtle hints about the artefact. When I wasn't doing that, he somehow did it himself, choosing Gryffindors; which wasn't the best idea, as they immediately decided that Snape was trying to steal it.

And finally, the third reason, is because _the spirit_ talked about you, claiming that it will kill me, and then will find and finish you. Now, I believe you have some questions, and I shall answer them... Or not, depending on the questions." He finished his speech, looking at a shocked boy.

"I... Why... Who... What?" Asked Hadrian eloquently. Then he took few deep breaths and started again. There were several questions he wanted answered, and so he had to prioritize.

"What was this spirit?"

"That is a very good question. I am not entirely sure, and I can only speculate. But If you asked me to guess, I would go for the Dark Lord."

"Dark lord?" Hadrian asked confused.

"No, not just any dark lord. The Dark Lord, the one whose name shouldn't be spoken according to some, Lord Voldemort."

"But he is dead." Stated Hadrian too calmly.

"Or so we all thought," Quirrell replied evenly. "I believe this will have some implications, but for now we have no proof, and so I suggest you focus on a different matters."

"...Right. Was one of those two artefacts that you mentioned, perhaps, a magical mirror?"

"It was indeed, Mister Potter. And just how would you know this?" Quirrell asked suspiciously.

"I went exploring on a Christmas Day, or, rather, night. I found a room with a mirror just sitting there; there was engraving on the frame written backwards stating that it would show not the face, but heart's desire."

"...Yes," Quirrell said after short silence. "The Mirror of Erised, one of the most curious magical artefacts, one that eludes our understanding for centuries now. It was indeed the outer artefact, the one that protected the main one."

"Why did Dumbledore want me to get involved? Because that's what he wanted, right?"

"I believe so. And, I'm afraid, I do not know."

Hadrian pondered this new development. That was most worrying; in his worst nightmares he didn't expect this meeting to go like this, to learn such things. What was this spirit, and why did it specifically wanted to kill Hadrian? What was Dumbledore's plan? And speaking of headmaster...

"Professor, is it customary for the headmaster to invite students over before the years' end, telling them they had to go back to their homes and suggesting they stay inside as much as possible?"

"What?" Quirrell for the first time this afternoon showed signs of surprise. "No, I don't believe so. Is that what happened to you?" Seeing that Hadrian nodded, he frowned. "It is most unusual. And makes me glad that I decided to let you know about what happened this year."

"Professor," Hadrian asked, deciding to change the subject. "Now that you are no longer DADA professor, do you know who gets to replace you?"

Something like intense dislike and disgust showed on Quirrells face.

"Yes. Yes, I know."

 **===#^#===**

' _Pop_ ', Hadrian heard one night, and when he woke up fully, he saw a house elf in his bedroom. Before he could say anything, the creature has spoken in a shaky, frightened voice.

"Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts." And again, before Hadrian could fully process the situation, the elf spoke. "Harry Potter must stay where he is safe. He is too great, too good, to lose. If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger."

 _Just what I needed most, in the middle of the night. A crazed fan-elf._

"Sit," Hadrian ordered, and was slightly surprised when the creature obediently sat down on the floor. "First of all: I. Am. Not. Harry. My name is Hadrian, and you will address me so or leave immediately. Understood?"

Elf's huge eyes went even bigger, before he nodded.

"Good," The only Potter said. "Why shouldn't I go back to Hogwarts?"

"There is a plot, Hadrian Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year."

"What kind of things?"

"Terrible! But I is can not speak of them!"

And with that the elf jumped and hit the wall with his head. Hadrian watched the poor creature punish itself, before deciding that he wanted to know slightly more about this evil plot. He snatched its garb, and pinned the elf to the floor.

"Enough of this nonsense. Tell me, elf, what family are you serving?"

"Dobby must not speak! Dobby bad elf!"

"Dobby, hmm?" Hadrian mused. He could work with that, having the name was something. "Listen. You have a choice. You can either answer my questions, or I will simply disregard everything you say as not trustworthy and proceed as planned, which is returning to Hogwarts."

Dobby's expression turned frantic.

"You must not! Harry Potter must not!"

"Then speak, elf."

It seemed that the creature would finally relent and say something, but then it turned it's head, as if it was listening to something, and, with another _'pop'_ , it disappeared.

 **===#^#===**

"Lord Malfoy, Heir Malfoy, well met," Hadrian greeted, bowing slightly to the older man. He was just finishing his school shopping when he stumbled upon the blond pair.

"Well met Mister Potter, It is good to finally meet you, I have heard great many a thing about you," Lucius Malfoy said, also bowing, albeit much shallower, as per custom. He scrutinized the boy quickly, intrigued by the formal greeting he used. It suggested some proper wizarding training, or intense self-studying at least.

"Potter," The younger Malfoy said, stopping himself from snorting at the last moment, for which he was now squirming under his father's gaze.

"Are you just starting your shopping, Mister Potter?" Lucius inquired politely.

"Not really, sir. I already have resupplied all usable goods, and the only thing left are new books. I've decided to do it last, because it seems we have to buy seven books just for DADA, and as I'm minor and can't really use shrinking charms..." he trailed.

"I see. That's a shame, we could have shopped together. But how about this? Draco, stay with mister Potter, I'm sure there are a lot of things you would like to catch up on, while I'll go in and buy your books. I will also be able to shrink them for you, Mister Potter, If you want me to, that is." Lord Malfoy suggested, to which both boys immediately agreed.

"So, Potter, how has it been?" Draco started small talk, seeing his father walk away.

"You know, quite well, actually. My muggles are treating me properly, I don't have much contact with them, thank Merlin. I studied a lot, I don't think I'll have any problems this year," Hadrian said, grinning. Despite Malfoy's best attempts, he still couldn't hide the fact that he disliked Hadrian, not exactly for any meaningful reason. Hadrian only hoped, that with time Malfoy would come around. "And how has your summer been?"

"Good, thank you," Draco replied stiffly. But then, as if remembering something, he smiled. "We've been to France. Our family lives there, and we own a small private island on Côte d'Azur. It was amazing! Father told me that when we are older, third or fourth year maybe, I could invite friends over and we could stay there, all on our own!" He finished with huge grin.

"Côte d'Azur? That would be really nice," said Hadrian with a smile. He wondered if by that time Draco would consider him friend enough to invite him; one could only hope. "So, did you hear anything about this Lockhart character? Those books that we are to buy, well, their titles don't exactly scream 'academics'..."

Draco made a disgusted face, that strangely resembled Professor Quirrell's expression when Hadrian asked him about his successor.

"Lockhart's a right ponce. A blond guy with more hairspray on his hair every given day than most countries use a year. He's supposedly a big name in dark creatures hunting community, but I've only ever seen him in those silly magazines girls sometimes read. Urgh," he finished eloquently. Before Hadrian could ask more about it, Lucius Malfoy returned, looking slightly dishevelled. Both boys' eyes went big. It wasn't a common sight to see Lord Mafoy looking anything but perfect.

"Father, what happened?" Draco stage whispered urgently.

"Weasleys happened," Older Malfoy said surly, to which young Slytherins frowned.

"I hope Mister Malfoy, that they got the short end of stick," Hadrian said silently, watching as Draco's father fixed himself with a few handy spells.

"Oh they did, of that you can be assured, Mister Potter." Lucius chuckled darkly. "They did indeed. Now... Dobby!" He called, and a familiar looking elf appeared, holding a stack of books. Mister Malfoy took some of them, and hit them with two charms.

"Here are your books, Mister Potter; I time-charmed them, they will be back to their normal size and weight in about four hours. I wish we could spend some more time together, but unfortunately there are other matters that we urgently need to attend. Stay safe Mister Potter."

"You too, Lord Malfoy. I'd like to have an opportunity to better acquaint with you sometime too, perhaps we might try to arrange something. Goodbye, Lord Malfoy, Heir Malfoy." Hadrian said, looking intently at the small creature, that was frightened to see him talking to Malfoys.

 _Well, well, well._

 **===#^#===**

Not many things are set in stone. Sooner or later almost everything changes, subjected to constant flow of time. However, what happens on a cosmic, geological or even historical scale isn't usually of interest to beings whose lifespan can be counted in mere years, a little bit over a century being their limit. To them, something that stays the same for more than a decade means permanent. Even more so, if this something stayed the same for over three hundred years, like the Hogwarts Express.

And so, it was a big shock to almost everyone, when they saw, that its first two cars were decorated with Hufflepuff's house crest and colours. Those that would approach them, would learn, from the announcement on the cars' doors, that they were especially for the house of Hufflepuff, the winner of House Cup. Members of other houses that decided to disregard this piece of information, found that they simply couldn't board them, as there were house-specific wards set up.

Other than that, the whole train looked exactly the same; no other cars were reserved for any house nor year.

 _Looks like they finally decided to make the house cup something more meaningful, worth fighting for_ , Hadrian mused, seeing through the yellow cars' windows that they were much more comfy, luxurious even.

 **===#^#===**

"So that's what's left of original Hogwarts Express?" Blaise Zabini asked, after he sat himself comfortably in a carriage pulled by Thestrals. Not that he could see one, but he believed every word that Hadrian just told them about the history of Hogwarts' transportation.

"Yes, I believe so. I think some of the Thestrals might even have pulled the original Express back then, they are a very long-living creatures," Hadrian answered. He was sitting in a six-person carriage, together with Draco, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass and Amy McMahon, who managed to beat Pansy to the carriage, to the relief of all the boys. Pansy might have been pretty, and they were all sure she would be well sought after as soon as puberty hit, but for now she was plain and simple annoying.

Hearing this last bit about Thestrals had them all pensive, which allowed Hadrian to just sit and observe the coming castle, and ponder on his feelings.

Hadrian was never one to be overly emotional or affectionate. He didn't loose sleep because of that one muggle boy he let die, though now he saw it was a stupid thing to do, as the debt he owned Hadrian died with him. He was quite sure, that there were no people in his life that were not expendable if need be. If it was important to help him further his goals or save his life, he wouldn't hesitate and sacrifice pretty much everyone. But this didn't mean that he wanted them dead. Quite the contrary, actually; he liked them well enough, and wanted them around. Did this mean that he was going soft? That he was becoming more human, and that he could perhaps some day form a real bond? He didn't know that. More, he didn't even know if he would like something like this to happen. Strong emotions and affections could be a powerful weapon - as well as a powerful weakness. For now, fortunately, he didn't have any issue with this, as no one goal of his demanded a sacrifice. And who knows, perhaps with time, spending more and more time with his... Friends? This theoretical dilemma would solve itself.

"Daphne," he said, not having an opportunity to talk to the girl earlier. "How has your summer been?"

 **===#^#===**

"Welcome, welcome!" Dumbledore started his speech. "As always, let an old man say his part, before you start feasting. First, let me warmly welcome our newest professor of defence against the dark arts, professor Gilderoy Lockhart!" With that, a golden-haired man wearing quite the ridiculous set of robes stood, and deeply bowed to all, immediately followed by a wide grin that had many girls swooning. Seeing him, Hadrian immediately understood Quirrell and Draco's disgust. Dumbledore continued.

"The third floor corridor is now, once again, open, and some of your classes might take place there, so please pay attention to what your timetable says.

And the last, but perhaps most exciting news! As many of you have already noticed, Hufflepuff students had a special cars all to themselves. Starting from this year, we decided to make the house cup something even more worth pursuing. Not just the prestige and a shiny cup; those who outshine all others deserve to be treated specially. That's why the special, very comfortable cars; that's why all the Hufflepuffs have a menu before them - you get to choose anything you like during your meals! Additionally, your house gets a small, twenty points lead on all others. You will also find quite a few more bonuses, of which you will all be informed today, after the feast, in your house. Now, enjoy your meal!"

 **===#^#===**

"That house cup deal, it's something, isn't it?" Remarked Daphne. She was sitting on Hadrian's bed, with Amy and Tracy, while the boy sat on his comfortable armchair. Meetings like this started sometime after last Christmas, and continued ever since. In whose room they were held was usually pretty random, though Hadrian noticed that if it were the girls he was talking with, they usually tended to come to his room, while if he was talking with the boys, it was Malfoy's room. Keeping this in mind, he spent some gold on his shopping trip do Diagon Alley in a furniture store, where he bought two comfortable armchairs.

"It is," he agreed. "I wish I'd known about it last year, then I might have actually cared about the points..."

"As if," Tracy snorted. "You had our compartment expanded and wrapped in cushioning charms, we had probably the most comfy compartment in the whole train. And about the meals? I know for a fact that the little buggers from the kitchen adore you," she said with a smirk, to which Hadrian only shrugged unapologetically.

"I'm just nice to them, you could too, you know."

"Yeah, I still remember your offer to take us to the kitchens," interjected Amy. "Perhaps we should take you up on that offer..." she wondered aloud.

"Be my guest, well, elves' guest. We could go even now if you like," Hadrian said, and changed the topic. "So, do you know anything about our brand new DADA professor?"

The reactions he got were quite telling. While Daphne and Amy snorted, Tracy's got a dreamy look in her eyes.

"He is..." She started.

"Retarded," Daphne quickly put in. Completely disregarding betrayed look her friend gave her, she went on. "He claims to have done all those amazing deeds that he wrote about in his books. But trust me, he couldn't have done so. I've once been to one of the duelling tournaments, that he apparently founded for 'young talents'", she said, making quotation marks in the air, "what he didn't count on, I bet, was that he would be asked for a real life demonstration against the champion. He lost in less than a minute, and he only lasted so long because trying to fire off his first spell, he immediately dropped his wand and ducked for it - avoiding disarming charms heading for him."

"He did this on purpose, to not humiliate that kid!" Tracy argued hotly.

"No, he didn't," Daphne replied calmly. "I've seen him close while he was revived, he didn't have any idea what was happening and he mouthed word 'mommy' over and over," she finished with a smirk. Tracey's mouth formed an 'o', as she couldn't think of any answer to this revelation. Well, if she didn't want to outright accuse Daphne of lying, which she didn't.

"So," Amy said slowly. "Do you mean to tell us, that we have a fraud for a teacher? A DADA teacher to that?"

"Apparently. Don't know what Dumbledore's been thinking, he surely must be aware of his obvious lack of competence. I guess that there is some truth to those rumours that his age is finally catching up with him."

Meanwhile, as the girls were debating Dumbledore's possible dementia, Hadrian thought hard. After all the revelations he got this summer, he was now looking for hidden agenda behind every Dumbledore's suspect decision. Could it be something more than just incompetence and age?

 **===#^#===**

Hadrian had a deja-vu situation. Similarly to what happened on his first ever Potion's class, Lockhart stopped the roll call when he reached him.

"Ah, Mister Potter, what a pleasure to meet you in person! I was so very saddened when I heard what happened to your parents, a terrible tragedy indeed. I so deeply regret that I couldn't be here in those dark times, however, I was needed elsewhere to fight forces of evil. Obviously I was already preparing for my return by then, the so called dark lord wouldn't stand a chance... But ah, well, perhaps that's for the best, ain't it? This way you managed to earn yourself a famous name, something many of us work for years!" Somehow he managed to say this all in one breath, and still smile brilliantly. Hadrian smiled back easily, at the same time sending a stinging hex from underneath his table at Lockhart. The blond teacher, who was just preparing for another lecture about fame, yelped and jumped.

"Whoaaa! What was that?" He asked, obviously disoriented. Hadrian silently snorted; apparently Daphne was correct, there was no way a man that couldn't tell a stinging hex when hit by one could be a real deal. He took this calculated risk, accepting that he could perhaps have landed himself in trouble. That was not the case, it seemed. Question remained though, did he have any book knowledge at least, so that he could impart it on them? Or would this be a completely wasted year?

 **#^#**

"Useless," Hadrian grumbled, walking out of the DADA classroom, followed closely by his friends. This whole lesson turned catastrophe couldn't have been worse; as soon as Lockhart finished calling roll, he decided to set upon the class a horde of Cornish Pixies. Then, after unsuccessfully trying to banish them with an overcomplicated spell that probably didn't even exist, he fled, leaving them alone.

Some of them, Hadrian, Daphne and Blaise included, immediately used the shield charm and managed to avoid little beasts' attacks, while dispatching some of them with stinging hexes or _stupefy_ s. Others weren't so lucky, with Neville Longbottom being the most glaring example, as he was hanged by his shirt on a chandelier.

One of the biggest surprises was Hermione Granger. First off, she wasn't one of Lockhart's fan girls, which was something, seeing her love for books. Then there was the fact that she managed to properly shield herself, and, at the same time, stun some more vicious Pixies, which was no easy feat, especially for a second year.

Granger wasn't overly popular. Her reputation was still in shambles after previous year, and she herself hasn't done anything to help the matter, as she usually spent her time in a library, constantly reading this or that. It was hard though to miss that she changed, at least judging by the few classes they already had. She no longer fought for teachers' attention. It was obvious she knew all the answers, but she was careful to put her hand in the air at most once every lesson.

Gone was also her attitude towards Hadrian. She still occasionally looked at him, but where once it was jealousy and competitiveness, now it was cold calculation and disdain. All in all it was slightly unnerving; or would be, if Hadrian gave a damn.

 **===#^#===**

Hadrian was pissed off. He hoped that the first, disastrous DADA class would have knocked some sense into Lockhart's but, as soon proven, it was not to be. The blond ponce still strutted around Hogwarts as if he owned the castle. His lessons weren't much better; he still tried giving Hadrian 'fame advices', going so far as to invite him over for a tea in his private quarters to 'discuss fame'. But that wasn't worst. This came, when Hadrian flat out refused going anywhere close to Lockhart's room; the so-called professor lost composure for a moment and threatened him with detention.

That's how he found himself going to the headmaster's office to attend an informal meeting with Board of Governors representative, after filing a formal complaint against Lockhart. He was close to his destination - actually only a corner away - when he heard strange hissing voice moving around, as if coming from the walls.

"Kill... Kill... Need... So hungry... KILL!"

The last hiss was so loud, that Hadrian jumped, quickly summoning his wand and looking around frantically, searching for any danger. As there was none, after a moment he resumed walking, still wary.

 **#^#**

"Bubble gum," he provided password, waiting for the gargoyle to move over, and then went up.

"Come in, Harry!" called the merry voice of Dumbledore, even before he could reach for the door. Hadrian hid his annoyance at the ever so present familiarity, and entered. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, drinking tea with a blond man sitting in a visitor's chair.

"Headmaster, Lord Malfoy," Hadrian greeted both men. Dumbledore didn't look overly happy to hear him address Malfoy formally, but didn't say anything about this. Instead, after customary lemon drop offer, he decided to get to the heart of matter.

"Harry," he started, but Hadrian finally decided that enough was enough, and interrupted him.

"Headmaster, with all due respect, I've asked you many times to not call me Harry. We are not friends, and I don't believe we are on first-name basis either way," he said through clenched teeth. There was something with Dumbledore, this irritating grandfatherly look of his, that really grated on his nerves. "All the other professors use my family name, and I would really," he put emphasis here, "really be grateful if you did so too."

Strangely enough, both older men gave him a calculating gaze, though in Malfoy's case it was with a hint of mirth, whereas Dumbledore's, disapproval. Headmaster quickly schooled his features though and decided to go with the 'disappointed grandpa' persona.

"Of course Mr. Potter, if that is what you wish," he said, sighing. "Now. You have filed a formal complaint to a board of governors against Professor Lockhart. Might I enquire as to why you felt the need, Harry, my boy?" Dumbledore asked, once again slipping. _It seems you really can't teach an old dog new tricks..._ Before Hadrian could say anything, Lucius Malfoy felt it a good time to intervene.

"Ah, thank you headmaster, I will take this from here, as that's now a board's matter. In fact, it would be prudent if you left us alone now. Mister Potter," he said, looking significantly at reluctantly leaving Dumbledore, "we have read your complaint and felt it serious enough as to warrant at least an informal he. I've been sent here on behalf of other governors. Could you please tell me, in your own words, what is going on with Professor Lockhart?" Lucius asked, saying 'Lockhart' as if it was a particularly nasty profanity. Hearing it, Hadrian inwardly smirked. Perhaps he could gain something more than just get Lockhart to leave him alone...

 **#^#**

Walking out of Headmaster's office was a much happier Hadrian. Officially nothing happened, as it was only an informal hearing - but unofficially he was all but assured that Lockhart would be put on probation, and his lessons examined by a board member. He couldn't wait. Even if he wouldn't know when the lesson was visited, as the inspecting person would be hidden to observe Lockhart in his 'natural environment', he was sure the blond ponce wouldn't stay in the castle for long after that.

That's when he noticed a large crowd in the corridor on his left. He didn't really have any real reason to go there and investigate, but the curiosity got the better of him. When he approached, he saw Draco Malfoy and Ron Weasley butting heads. He sighed, shook his head and turned back, heading to the common room. He didn't really have anything against baiting the red head, but Draco seemed to enjoy this way too much. Hadrian even told him so, but the boy just started mumbling about some blood feud from a century back or some other nonsense.

 **===#^#===**

"Hadrian?" A hesitant voice of Tracy Davis could be heard on the evening before the Halloween. This time it was only she and Daphne sitting in Hadrian's room, as Amy had a bad case of flu and was confined to her bed. Seeing that she's got Hadrian's attention, she continued. "I'm sorry if I'm prying, but... It's just occurred to me... I..." She stopped, took a deep breath and tried once again. "It might come as a rude question, and you certainly don't have to answer if you don't like... What I'm trying to ask is, are you affected by Halloween? I mean, it's the anniversary of Dark Lord's demise... But also your parents death." She finished silently.

"I'm not offended, don't worry," The boy answered, easing her worries. "I know it is somehow expected of me to be affected either way. But to be honest, I'm not. Thanks to Dark Lord, I've never known my parents. It's rather hard to mourn for those I've never met, and I don't even have any serious memories of them." He answered. "So, no, not really, It's like every other day to me, as far as my parents are considered."

Tracy looked troubled, but let it go, obviously not willing to pursue the hard topic of emotions. Daphne on the other hand looked pensive.

"You know, what some now call Halloween, meant to be Samhain, one of the most important wizarding festivals," she started, and immediately continued, seeing that Hadrian was about to say something. "No, hear me out. I know you know all about it, I've seen you read books on wizarding customs and even Samhain itself. But I doubt you've found what I'm about to say in any of the publicly accessible books," she revealed, sparking Hadrian's interest.

"Go on..."

"Well, there are _rituals_ ," She said, almost whispering the last word. Tracy drew a sharp breath, but didn't do anything to stop the blond girl from speaking. "Normally it's incredibly difficult, but Samhain is the day when the veil between the worlds is at it's thinnest. It is, therefore, possible to summon spirits long passed away."

Hadrian looked at her, obviously thinking hard.

"Why is it difficult? I thought summoning rituals are common in necromancy?"

"Yes, but they are not 'the' real summonings. What necromancers do, is they call forth the spirits of those passed away relatively recently and force them to do their bidding. If you wanted to summon someone like they do, you would end up with a spirit resembling the desired one only in form, but he would be only a... For a lack of better word, a shell. No emotions, almost no memories, no free will. And the longer they are gone, the less of them is in the summoned spirits. However, on Samhain, it is possible to call for the whole spirits, and they will come - as they were when they were alive."

"How do you know all this Daph?" Asked slightly shaken Tracy. She obviously had no in-depth knowledge of necromancy, and if her reaction was anything to go by, she also had no desire to acquire it.

"My twice-grandfather was a necromancer, back when it was still legal. He told me stories," she shrugged.

"I don't know much about rituals," Hadrian admitted finally. "But I know that it's part of sacrificial magic branch. So what is needed to do this ritual, what kind of sacrifice is required?"

"Hadrian!" Exclaimed Tracy, horrified that he might even be considering necromancy. Daphne ignored her.

"I don't know exactly, as I've never done this, but from what I remember it was mostly your blood and magic, to connect with your relatives. It won't work on those unrelated by blood, so you can't for example summon Salazar Slytherin."

Hadrian looked as if he was pondering this, sending Tracy on the verge of panic. To calm the girl down, he decided to give her some assurances.

"Don't worry Trace, I'm not going to do this any time soon, don't loose sleep over this," he smirked.

"Oh thank Merlin," she exhaled. "This is banned for a reason, you know, it's possibly the most dangerous magic out there."

They talked for a while longer, before Tracy decided she has had enough and it was time for bed. Both girls said their goodbyes, and Hadrian decided that it was, indeed, a good time for some sleep. Just when he finished changing to his pyjamas, he heard knock on his door. Curiously, he opened it and been presented with Daphne Greengrass in all her glory... Of her own pyjamas. He raised his brow, and she flushed.

"Why, Heiress Greengrass, I wasn't aware that you've been pursuing a tryst arrangement," he said cheekily, letting her in.

"Why you...!"

"You know, I wouldn't exactly be opposed to this," he remarked casually, enjoying her reaction. "But perhaps we should wait a year or two, what do you say?"

"Argh!" She replied eloquently. Hadrian only smirked, waiting for her to compose herself and explain why she came back. It took a minute, and then she was talking.

"I was lying," she admitted. "I know very well how this ritual is done. My grandpa taught me, and also made me promise that I would summon him when he passed away. I've been doing that every Samhain since I was nine." She looked him in the eyes. "If you wish to meet your parents, we could do this tomorrow."

He was speechless. He couldn't remember ever feeling like this. Here she was, a girl he considered a friend, that was offering to let him meet his real parents. She was willing to go to a great lengths to help him. He knew, that for that confession alone she could be facing several years of Azkaban, so coming to him was a sign of great trust. Even more so, she decided to do so behind her best girlfriend's back, putting him over Tracy. This feeling... No, he would have plenty of time to concentrate on it later, now there was a squirming girl in his room, waiting for his answer anxiously.

"I... I would like that very much," he whispered softly.

 **===#^#===**

It was late hour of All Hallows' Eve. Two dark silhouettes could be seen skulking around Slytherin Common Room, moving quickly down the dungeons. Almost every other student and staff was attending Halloween Feast, however, since it wasn't compulsory, they would not be missed this evening anytime soon.

"Are we there yet?" whispered Hadrian.

"Soon, it's just around the corner," promised Daphne.

And indeed, it was. Hidden behind a statue of a unicorn, accessible only to those that knew proper phrase, was a ritual room. It was mostly bare, 30 by 30 feet area, with a huge circle chiselled in a cobblestone floor in the middle. Inside the circle there could be seen other geometrical figures, most prominent a pentagram.

"So, what do we do?" Hadrian asked nervously.

"We do rituals, of course," Daphne said matter-of-factly. "We will do them separately, as they are deeply personal and both require the big circle. It is really straightforward. You just need to enter the circle, without your wand; in fact, you can only take your robes and this dagger," she stated, handing him a plain looking yet well sharpened dagger. "Once you are there, you have to cut yourself and paint the whole outline of the big circle with your blood. Don't worry, you don't have to use much - in fact the less the better. Then you call your parents - anything will do, really, as long as your intent is clear. It's just this simple, such is the power of Samhain. When they come, they will stay with you for as long as your magic can sustain them - that is the second sacrifice. It is possible to overdo it and fall from magic spent, but just finish the connection when you start feeling tired and all shall be fine. To end it, exit the circle. Do you have any questions?"

"Will you be here?" Hadrian hated how weak and vulnerable he sounded, but on some level deep down he knew, that it was okay, that what he felt was perfectly normal in these circumstances.

"I will, though I will stay outside the circle. I won't hear anything from the inside, and your parents won't hear or see anything outside."

"Okay, let's do it."

 **#^#**

"Mum...? Dad...?"

 **#^#**

Overall it took them almost three hours, so when they were going back to the common room, they were well after curfew time. Normally it wouldn't raise any brows - it was something normal, that a student here or there would be out of bounds late at night - as almost everyone would be asleep or minding their own business. However, this time, when they entered the common room, almost every Slytherin student looked at them.

"Where have you been?" Tracy hissed. "Do you have any idea what is going on?"

The two looked at each other.

"And just what _is_ going on?" Hadrian drawled. When confronted with an unknown situation, he reacted by shutting down any and all emotions. Tracy, taken aback by this sudden ice demeanour, stood silent, and so it fell to Draco to fill them in.

"Apparently, the Chamber of Secrets has been opened."

 **===#^#===**

* * *

 **A/N:**

As mentioned in the previous chapter, I decided to split second year. Part two will come out in few days time, hopefully earlier than in a week. On the plus side, I've managed to map out the third year, and it won't be so long, so we are now just two chapters away from the beginning of the "real" story.

By the way, I suppose I should start looking for a Beta. Any candidates? :)


	4. Chapter 4: Second Year pt 2

**Warning** : Major character death.

* * *

"What?" Daphne's voice, though silent, carried on perfectly all over the common room, such was the silence.

"At the end of the feast Filch marched in to the Great Hall and started yelling that his cat was murdered, and that he will kill whomever did this," Draco started explaining. "Dumbledore stood up and said that he would investigate, requesting at the same time that we all stay put. Obviously all the students followed him," he stated. "When we reached the second floor, we saw a huge poodle of water, and a cat hanging by its tail above an inscription painted with a red ink that read 'The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware'."

After a short silence, Hadrian spoke up.

"Was the cat really dead?"

"Yes," Tracy piped in. "I was close to Dumbledore, who cast some diagnostic charms. He didn't know, or wouldn't say, what was the cause of death," she shrugged.

Hadrian looked unconvinced.

"I don't get it. Why would an heir of Slytherin go after a cat? If anything, it makes him, or her, look inept and petty, rather than scary and all powerful," he declared, intently watching his peers reactions. There was, however, no angered looks, as most of them agreed with him. This act was more of a prank, than a serious message or a threat. How and why would anyone take this seriously was unimaginable. "Although I think it might be a good idea to ask... Is anyone here responsible for this act of silliness?"

"No," Draco declared. "The council has already finished the investigation, and you two were the only ones unaccounted for at the time of the supposed act. And as we highly doubt that second years could be able to do something like this without Dumbledore immediately figuring out if not who, then at least how, we must conclude that the culprit isn't from Slytherin House," Draco stated officially, looking nervously at other Council members. It was the first time that he was allowed to speak on behalf of the Council, and he wanted to make sure that he doesn't screw up. After this announcement, other students began dispersing, as most of them waited to see if the council would declare the missing duo guilty.

 **#^#**

"Just what the two of you have been up to, eh?" Tracy asked immediately after they were in the confines of Hadrian's room. "I was worried sick! Why weren't you at the feast?"

Daphne was just about to launch into an elaborate lie she has been trying hard to make believable, when Hadrian beat her to it.

"We've been having a tryst," he said with all seriousness. His declaration caused Daphne to go bright red and splutter, while Tracy choked.

"You... What?" The girl squeaked.

"We've been having a tryst," Hadrian repeated calmly. "We are, after all, almost teenagers, with hormones buzzing and so on. What were you expecting, us doing a dark ritual or something?" He grinned.

"I just..." Tracy stuttered, and then rapidly changed the topic and started talking about their assignments. Hadrian smirked, satisfied that if he ever needed to disappear, the girl wouldn't give him trouble or even mention it. On the other hand... He gulped silently, seeing Daphne's gaze boring into him.

 **===#^#===**

"Hadrian Potter sir!" a squeaking voice woke Hadrian. Seeing to whom it belonged, he groaned.

"What is it Dobby? Are you going to make me leave the castle, because some idiot is killing cats?" he demanded exasperatedly. The elf, obviously not expecting his attitude, blinked. Hadrian, seeing that Dobby wasn't going to say anything for now, pressed on. "I do understand that you can't tell me anything about the plot. I know, that you are Malfoys' elf, and this tells me quite a lot. I know that the supposed Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Is there anything useful that you can tell me, or are you just going to annoy me?"

The creature stood there, shaking, not knowing what to do. Finally, mustering some courage, he cleared his throat and spoke.

"I is not allowed to speak, Hadrian Potter sir," he said sadly. "I is wantings to warn Hadrian Potter sir, but I is not allowed to speak!" The elf cried. In response Hadrian quickly cast a silencing charm on his door, silently kicking himself for not placing a permanent silencing ward on the room earlier.

"Then just go," Hadrian suggested, with his eyes narrowed. He would kick this creature's ass if it woke him up only for a seance of self-pity and wailing.

"I is can not! I is protecting Hadrian Potter sir! If Hadrian Potter sir not promise to be leaving Hogwarts, then Dobby puts Hadrian Potter in St. Mungos place so Hadrian Potter is safe!" Dobby declared, looking determined. Hadrian sat upright, alarmed. Was the little critter threatening him?

"Elf," the boy started coldly, "I suggest you control yourself. I am not your responsibility and I am well able to protect myself. I also know who your master is. If you do not cease your threats immediately, Lord Malfoy will find out about your behaviour as soon as possible."

Dobby shuddered violently, but didn't lose his defiant look.

"Dobby is sorry, Hadrian Potter sir. Dobby promise it is not hurtings too much," he declared, and started raising his hand, possibly to snap his fingers, as Hadrian has seen other elves do. But the boy was prepared, and as soon as he heard elf's declaration of regret, he snapped into action. He rolled out of his bed, aiming his wand at the creature and launching several obscuring jinxes and three powerful stunners, one next to the other, in case Dobby managed to avoid one. Which he didn't, as he was too surprised to see Hadrian attack him and succumbed to his first red spell.

 **#^#**

"Potter, what the hell?" Malfoy grunted, having been just awoken by Hadrian's loud knocking.

"Heir Malfoy, I apologize for the late hour, but there is a situation in my room that you need to see," Hadrian said, looking apologetic.

"What might it possibly be that can't wait till it's more humane hour?"

"It's a matter best discussed in confines of a warded room, I believe, heir Malfoy. Please follow me, I promise it will be worth your time," Hadrian said solemnly, though still slightly drowsy himself.

 **#^#**

"Rennervate", Hadrian intoned. When the elf woke up, the first thing he saw were his young master's steel gray eyes, watching him intently, and a little bit curiously.

"Dobby," Draco greeted him pleasantly, which caused the elf to shudder almost as much as at the mention of Lord Malfoy earlier. "Just what the fuck are you doing?"

"Dobby is lying." The elf responded, catching Draco completely off guard, and eliciting an amused snort from Hadrian.

"Yes, I can see this, Dobby. What I meant is, why the hell are you attacking Hadrian Potter, and what sort of danger are you trying to warn him about?" Draco asked again, patiently.

"Dobby is not allowed young Master, Dobby can't!" The elf wailed. Draco sighed.

"Yes you can, Dobby. I allow you to speak. So speak!" Draco finished hotly, finally loosing his temper. Normally he would try to preserve his decorum harder, but it was middle of the night and he cared not if Hadrian saw his less official face.

"Dobby can't! Mistress Bella forbid Dobby, Dobby is not allowed! Only Master Lord can allow Dobby speak," Elf said, looking at the floor. Draco swore, shocking Hadrian. Young Malfoy could be temperamental, that he knew. But to hear him swear like a common muggle was not something that he would expect to witness.

"Might I remind you, Dobby, that you have received a very clear order from my father, to never, ever, approach that woman?" Malfoy Heir said in a low, dangerous tone of voice, that sent shivers down Hadrian's spine, causing him to quickly reevaluate what he knew about young Malfoy. It was clear now, that the blond has been keeping low profile. The amount of magic he has just now released was stunning for someone his age, and his level of control was pretty much astounding, on par with Hadrian's own.

Hadrian knew, that he was powerful. He had lots of raw power at his fingertips, and spent countless hours trying to refine it and gain more control. He read a lot, learning magic that most students wouldn't even hear of before their last year. Heir Potter knew, however, that he wasn't the most powerful out there. Even with his magical maturity he wouldn't be able to hold a candle to Dumbledore or Voldemort, with them having decades of experience and knowledge on him.

But he honestly thought that he was the most powerful in his generation. To feel the power that young Malfoy radiated was a very humbling experience, but at the same time, eye-opening. He would have to carefully reassess each and every one of his peers. Damn.

 **#^#**

"I will be contacting father, rest assured. Dobby will no longer bother you, and if I find out what this was about, I'll let you know," Draco promised, leaving Hadrian's room. It took another ten minutes or so for the boy to exhaust all his ideas to make the elf speak, and so he sent it home with a letter to his father and a strict order to give it to Lord Malfoy immediately in the morning, without talking about this with anyone. Hadrian noted with interest, that Malfoy Heir worded his order very carefully, making sure to avoid leaving any potential loopholes that could allow the elf to do anything on his own volition.

The whole elf debacle took almost an hour, and thoroughly ruined any chance of a peaceful sleep for Hadrian. Instead, he dressed up, and with his invisibility cloak donned, he set off towards the library. He wanted to learn exactly what the Chamber of Secrets was.

 **===#^#===**

"Potter, may I talk to you?" Draco asked politely, approaching him once they returned from the dinner. Hadrian, seeing Draco's serious posture immediately agreed, and led him to his room - now protected with a silencing ward that activated once the door were closed. Hadrian gestured for Draco to sit in an armchair, sitting on the other one himself and waiting for the blond boy to start speaking. It didn't take long.

"I spoke with father and I don't have a good news," he began. "As you might or might not know, my mother is Black by blood. That means, that we are effectively related with the house of Black. It appears, that the link is strong enough to allow Blacks to order our elf around. The one that has been ordering him was Bellatrix Lestrange." He revealed, watching closely for Hadrian's reaction.

"I think I know that name," Hadrian mused. "Wasn't she, like, the most trusted lieutenant of the Dark Lord?"

"She was," Draco answered grimly. "She also was, and still is, positively feral. She is scarily powerful, almost as much as the Dark Lord is, and completely insane to boot. You wouldn't want to fight any of His inner circle Death Eaters, but if given a choice, I'd choose any other one or even two of them to avoid going against her," Draco shuddered. "Father interrogated the elf, and found out that he has been tasked with giving some sort of dark artefact to a random student at school. We don't know what it is, to whom has it been given or anything useful, really, as that madwoman somehow managed to wipe Dobby's memory of those crucial pieces," Draco finished, looking ill.

"Do you think that this might have something to do with this Chamber of Secrets business?" Hadrian asked slowly, trying to piece the puzzles together.

"Can't really see what else," Malfoy admitted. "But!" He exclaimed, as he remembered something. "Do you know what? Apparently father, and the whole board of governors, was not informed about this. Let me tell you, he was not pleased. He asked to keep him informed, and said that he would launch an investigation into whatever is going on."

After the boy left, Hadrian sat for a while in his armchair, thinking. A crazy elf, even crazier madwoman, Dark Lord's follower through and through, a dark artefact, Chamber of Secrets, dead cat. It didn't make any sense; he was missing some crucial pieces, and until he got them, there was no use wasting his time on this.

 **===#^#===**

"Closer, closer, everyone! Now, I'm happy to see so many of you! I have been given permission to start this little duelling club, so that I can teach you how to defend yourself against many dark threats looming out there, as have I, on countless occasions!" Lockhart exclaiming, flashing his teeth left and right to a swooning crowd of girls. Hadrian sighed. He knew it was a bad idea to come here, this buffoon wouldn't be able to teach the fish swim.

"Together with me is professor Snape, who tells me he knows this and that about duelling. Obviously not as much as me, but do not worry - once I'm done with him you will still have your potion master!" He laughed a little, but then abruptly stopped seeing Snape's face. "Right then," he gulped, "We will start with the disarming spell, 'Expelliarmus'. A very basic one, though undoubtedly powerful and useful. We will first make a demonstration," he announced, and turned to face Snape.

The whole 'duel' - if it could even be called that - didn't last more than ten seconds. As soon as it started, Lockhart started waving his wand in a complicated manner, but before he could finish, a lazily cast spell from Snape collided and thrown him out of the platform.

 **#^#**

"Mister Potter, why don't you come over here, perhaps with mister Weasley? We shall have a demonstration!" Lockhart tried to coax Harry onto the stage.

"I think not, professor," Hadrian answered evenly. "I will not be duelling publicly unless it's in a recognized duelling tournament."

"Come now, Mister Potter, you don't have to worry, I will personally supervise your duel," Blond teacher said, smiling.

"As I said, no, I won't. It's your job to demonstrate how to do a spell, not mine, and if you are unable to do so, perhaps you should resign," Hadrian drawled, eliciting outraged hisses from the female audience and causing Lockhart to fluster.

"Oh, very well. Then perhaps Mister Malfoy?"

Contrary to Hadrian, Draco didn't have to be told twice to come and fight Weasley. He eagerly climbed on the platform and took a duelling stance, revealing at the same time that he had some previous experience. Weasley, on the other hand, though no less eager to destroy Malfoy, looked like a hobo - with his wand loosely held in hand and slightly too big robes that would severely limit his mobility.

Regardless of Weasley's handicap, he managed to hold Malfoy off fairly long, before the Slytherin conjured a dozen of small serpents, and, capitalizing on a chaos he produced, managed to knock Weasley out.

Meanwhile, Hadrian was leaving the hall; when Malfoy conjured snakes, he could hear them hiss... And he understood.

 **===#^#===**

Hadrian was sitting in a common room, observing a peculiar behaviour of Crabbe and Goyle. Two silent boys, who almost never spoke without being asked something first, decided to interrogate Draco about the Chamber of Secrets. They asked several weird questions, insisting that he must know something, and when he stubbornly declined, they instead focused on him, starting with the interrogation again.

"Potter, you must know something, everybody know that you are important here," Goyle huffed as if he was very tired. Hadrian raised his brow. This was wrong on so many levels. It was obvious that the two were either impersonators or were heavily confounded. He looked pointedly at Draco, who in turn nodded his head and went to look for other Council members.

"Perhaps I do, perhaps I don't," Young Potter answered. "But I honestly fail to see how is that any of your business. Since when do you even talk to me?"

"We thought that we might be your friends now, you know? If you tell us who is the heir of Slytherin," Crabbe piped in. Before he could say anything else, both boys found themselves suddenly tied up with a conjured rope, as a Slytherin Council's head approached them with his wand drawn.

"What do we have here?" Anthony Spear sneered, looking at two obviously frightened boys, struggling to get free. "So you say they are either confounded or somehow impersonated?" He directed the question at Malfoy, who nodded, along with several other students that saw the peculiar behaviour. "Very well. Let's see if this is the spell. _Finite_!" He cast, but the spell did nothing. "Not a charm, it seems. Perhaps a transfiguration then? _Crìochnaicheadh cruth-atharrachadh_! Hm, not a transfiguration. Boys," this time he addressed two bound prisoners, "How about you tell us what is wrong with you and we can get this over with?"

"We are Crabbe and Goyle, we promise!" Goyle-alike said frantically. "Let us out!"

"Yeah, we are them! Let us out or we will tell professor McGon... I mean, professor Snape!" Crabbe-alike said, causing some brows to furrow at his McGonagall slip.

"I see what you mean, Draco," Evelynn Flint, a fifth year council member said. "I guess it's a potion then, perhaps a polyjuice. How long have they been here?"

"Half an hour?" Draco guessed.

"Actually, forty five minutes, I've checked the time after we came back from the feast," Hadrian corrected him.

"All right. Then we wait," Spear commanded, silencing their prisoners as they wouldn't shut up.

 **#^#**

At first, it was the increased panic of the duo that alerted Slytherins that something was going on. Barely a minute later, their bodies started shifting and getting smaller, and finally...

"Well, well, well. Weasley and Thomas, who'd have thought," Draco exclaimed with barely concealed glee. "You are in so much trouble, you know?" he gloated.

"Draco, enough," Spear shut him up. "Go fetch professor Snape, he needs to know about this development."

 **#^#**

Slytherin's Head of the House looked no less gleeful than Draco. Upon seeing his prey, he immediately descended on the boys, and viciously tore into them. Shortly they knew everything. Weasley and Thomas thought that they could catch the heir of Slytherin in the snake's pit, so they kidnapped real Crabbe and Goyle, stuffed them stunned inside a locked cupboard and used a polyjuice potion that Thomas managed to somehow prepare. They suspected that the culprit behind the attack was Draco Malfoy, or Harry Potter. Hadrian, hearing this version of his name, only rolled his eyes. Some people just couldn't learn.

As soon as it was clear what happened, and after Snape ensured that Goyle and Crabbe were fine, both impersonators were taken to the Headmaster's office, were there would be an impromptu disciplinary hearing held, with Anthony Spear as a witness. It didn't take long for him to return, and announce that both boys would be now spending each evening in the dungeons cleaning floor, and were officially on a probation for the rest of the year, though, curiously enough, they didn't lose any points. Hadrian supposed that it was a calculated decision; if the Gryffindor lost the cup again because of the same boys, they would probably be murdered in their sleep.

 **===#^#===**

"Hadrian Potter?" A young, red-headed and very freckled Gryffindor girl approached him during breakfast. He looked up curiously, it wasn't often that other students approached him when he was sitting at Slytherin's table, surrounded by his friends.

"That's me," he confirmed. "What can I help you with?"

"I'm Ginevra Weasley, Ginny for friends. I wanted to talk to you for a second," and with this it seemed as if all her courage lost her, and she flushed. "If, if that's okay, that is, if you are busy, then of course we do not have to go now and..." she rambled. Hadrian stopped her, amused.

"Tell you what, Miss Weasley. I'll finish my breakfast, and I suggest you do the same. And then we can both go somewhere private, what do you say?"

"Uhm, okay," Ginny agreed shyly, and then fled, leaving slightly flabbergasted Slytherin table.

"Potter, you stud," some fourth year commented, laughing. "Though really, Weasley?"

 **#^#**

"Now that we are alone, what can I do for you, Miss Weasley?" Hadrian asked once they were sat in an empty classroom down the first floor corridor. Ginny looked like she has been trying to compose herself and decide how to start, so he waited, watching her silently, trying to assess her. Finally, she calmed down and started speaking.

"First, I wanted to say that I am sorry because of what my brother does. He is a jerk. He thinks that just because you are in Slytherin, you are dark and evil."

"Well, I'm definitely not light, Miss Weasley," Hadrian decided to interrupt her, just to see her reaction. She didn't disappoint, completely ignoring him.

"He is also terribly immature, so if I were you, I'd rather avoid him. Actually, as me, I'm also avoiding him," she grinned slightly. "There is something that I think I should tell you," she continued after a while, suddenly less confident again. Hadrian shifted slightly, listening intently.

"At the beginning of a year I've found, hidden in one of my school books, a plain old diary. I didn't buy it, but I thought it is perhaps a gift from my family, like a passed on from my mother or something like this. I started writing in it, but the ink... It disappeared in the page, and then it wrote back," she recited. Hadrian looked interested, if only for the mention of a curious magical artefact. He inclined his head, urging her to continue. "It said its name was Tom, and that he... It... wants to be friends. I was startled, and decided to talk to Hermione, to ask her for advice, as she has always been very helpful when I asked her about school. She thought that it was simply an enchanted diary. But it wasn't," she stressed, looking serious. "Soon enough the diary started asking questions, no matter how weird this sounds. It asked about a lot of things, about history, about you..." She trailed.

"About me?" Hadrian asked sharply. Just why would some old diary ask about him? Could this possibly be the artefact, the one that Dobby has been tasked with planting on a student?

"Yes," she said sadly. "It wanted to know everything. I wasn't that stupid, however, to trust it. My father always told me to never trust something that speaks and thinks if I can't see it's brain. So I fed it some stories about you. It helped that I don't really know you," she flushed, embareassed.

"Ginny," Hadrian said seriously, looking her in the eye. "Can I see this diary?"

She looked down.

"That's the thing, Hadrian. I've lost it. As suddenly as it appeared in my things, it disappeared over the night. I'm sorry, I should have told you earlier," she said guiltily.

"You probably should have," Hadrian agreed. "But no harm done, I guess, and you did tell me after all. I know now that, however it sounds, a weird diary is after me." He said, grimacing. Why couldn't this year be as peaceful as the last one?

Well, at least if it is gone, then perhaps other cats won't be attacked.

 **===#^#===**

Unfortunately, Hadrian's prediction wasn't fulfilled, as not a week later three students have been found petrified, in a weird state between life and death. It seemed, Draco later told him, that Dumbledore wanted to cover it up again, but with the students attacked it wasn't possible. Soon, heavily covered by media, a massive investigation launched. Aurors roamed the school, searching for any lead, interrogating every student. All magical signatures were checked against the one found residually on the victims' bodies, but all for naught, as the culprit wasn't found.

 **#^#**

It was no wonder, that almost everyone decided to leave the castle for the Christmas. They all wanted to relax a little bit, something that the heavy atmosphere of Hogwarts wouldn't allow. There were only a bunch of kids staying, those that for this reason or the other couldn't or didn't want to go home. Obviously Hadrian was one of them, even though Daphne, Draco and even Pansy all offered to invite him over. However, Hadrian's chosen to stay and use some free time to advance his reading.

Surprisingly, Hermione Granger also decided to stay, them being the only second years present in an ancient castle, and, coincidentally, often meeting in a library. Apparently she had the same idea as he had. Usually they wouldn't interact in any way, but one evening he incidentally took a look at the cover of her book, and was surprised to note that it was about wards, the exact same topic that he has been researching. He couldn't help himself, and decided to strike conversation, in a good Christmas spirit.

"Miss Granger."

"Potter," she acknowledged him, slightly surprised that he would talk to her. "What do you want?"

"No need to be antagonistic," he soothed. "I've just noticed what you are reading, and couldn't help but be intrigued. You see, I'm reading Branshow's 'Wards. A compendium' as well, though a slightly older edition if I'm not mistaken," he said, showing her the cover of his book.

"Why would you read older book? There are at least two more copies of the latest edition," Granger answered curiously.

"Yes there are," he agreed, and then took a calculated risk. "But there are certain topics that's been deemed... Controversial, by the ministry, and are no longer in the newest editions."

"What kind of topics?" Hermione asked cautiously.

"With each new edition, it seems, the author writes more about theory of wards, removing bits and pieces about wards that were decided to be undesirable. For example, in my edition there are three paragraphs about elemental wards, whereas in the newer version there is only one. In my edition there is one paragraph about blood wards, while the first edition ever, copy currently in a restricted section, had a detailed description of various types of blood wards with."

Hermione looked shocked, though if that was because of blood wards, or the fact that someone could strip books of knowledge, Hadrian couldn't tell. She blinked few times, exhaled, and tried to rationalize.

"Well, if that's what the ministry says, that's probably for the best," she said, unsure.

"Oh come on, Granger, you don't believe it yourself."

She never answered him, but the next time they were in a library together, he saw her read an older edition of the compendium.

 **#^#**

A gong sounded when he was just about to finish his book. Immediately after, a disembodied voice followed.

"Students, go to your common rooms immediately. I repeat, go to your rooms immediately."

 _Aurors didn't help, huh?_

 **#^#**

And indeed, they didn't. Few hours later Professor Snape entered the room, and looked over the remaining students.

"There's been another attack," he announced gravely. "A student from Hufflepuff has been petrified. Culprit once again evaded us. From now on you are not allowed to wander the corridors alone, and every time you want to go somewhere, find a perfect and ask for an escort."

 **#^#**

One of his gifts was weird, as it was only an envelope. When he opened it, two pieces of paper fell out. The first one, signed by Lockhart, would allow him to use a restricted section of the library. And the other one...

 _Use it well. Happy Yule._

 _G_

 **===#^#===**

Nobody really knew why, but Hagrid's been arrested. Obviously, Hogwarts being the rumour mill it was, the next morning it was buzzing with ideas and not even the wildest tales were dismissed. So, if one were to accept everything that circulated, one would learn that Hagrid has been having a romance with Professor McGonagall. They were caught in the act, by no other than Filch, who threatened with ousting them. To keep him quiet, Hagrid killed his cat, an act that has awoken his giant's blood and killing lust, causing him to attack random students. He was supposedly petrifying them using a gorgon that he was breeding secretly in his shack, and that - illegal selling of gorgon egg - was what allowed the ministry to catch him, but not without a fight with multiple Auror casualties.

It didn't help that another trio of students have been attacked, but what caused the biggest panic was that a ghost has been petrified as well. Ministry immediately after this latest attack declared that the school would be closing down for the rest of the term, while a thorough investigation was launched. There was even a talk of deconstructing the wards, a very tedious process that would reveal whatever was lurking hidden in the school. The downside was, that it would also destroy them, which wasn't something to take lightly; Hogwarts' wards were considered one of the best because of how old and ingrained in the very stone they were. Deconstruction would basically mean that Hogwarts would turn into a castle with at most mediocre security.

This was one of the reasons why Dumbledore fought hard against the ministry, even going so far as to cite the Hogwarts Charter, giving him the sole responsibility for the security of the school, and insisting that the school is not closed. It wasn't received very well; in fact, if what Draco told the Slytherins was accurate, it wasn't even a day, and Dumbledore was temporarily suspended by the board of governors. It was official: the school would close by the end of the January, eight days from now.

 **===#^#===**

"Potter," Hermione whispered, gaining his attention. "Meet me tomorrow by the lavatory closest to where Filch's cat was found." With this she quickly left, leaving a flabbergasted Hadrian.

 **#^#**

"It wasn't easy evading all my overprotective friends, prefects and the teachers, you know," Hadrian remarked, suddenly appearing next to a nervous Hermione from under his cloak. She jumped slightly, but otherwise completely ignored him, and instead - obviously expecting him to follow - turned on her heel and entered the bathroom. Hadrian shrugged; it wasn't as if anyone would see him in a girls' lavatory, the corridor was completely empty, and so was the toilet, he checked even before Granger arrived. One might call him paranoid, but given the number of students attacked recently, there was no such thing as too careful.

He went in, and promptly got knocked out, as a red beam of a stunner hit him squarely in the chest. He wasn't careful enough.

 **#^#**

"It's the end," McGonagall whispered, white as a sheet of paper. She has just received the news that three students have been taken, harbinger of their fate being an ominous message painted with human blood on the wall near the site of the first attack.

 _THEIR SKELETONS WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER_

"Who was taken?" professor Vector looked ready to vomit.

"Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger and Hadrian Potter."

 **#^#**

 _Damn._ It felt as if he has been stomped on by Hagrid. The last thing he could remember was following Granger, and then a flash of red light. He tried opening his eyes, but to no avail; someone must have blindfolded him. He couldn't move much, ropes prevented it. There was probably also a silencing charm over him, as he couldn't hear anything, even ambient sounds of his surroundings. If that wasn't enough, he couldn't tell what he was lying on, there was a cushioning charm underneath. He remembered reading once about something called sensory deprivation tank, where one would enter and, thanks to its construction, get completely detached from the senses. It was quite similar, he guessed; he had no sense of smell, sight, sound or touch. He was completely defenceless, and on the mercy of whoever captured him.

Speaking of which. Was it Granger? At first, he almost immediately dismissed it, as she wasn't the likely candidate. But then he thought better of it. It was, after all, Granger that asked him to come there. It was her that he followed. She was a knowledgeable witch, certainly knowledgeable enough to fire a stunner, though he wasn't quite sure about the ropes and sense deprivation spells. If it was her, she would also have to be able to somehow transport him somewhere safe, where they wouldn't be discovered.

If it was her, that also led to some worrying conclusions. For example, it would probably mean that she was the one behind all the attacks. And if that was the case, then she was probably possessed by the diary. She could have stolen it from Ginny - she knew about it, as the readhead told her herself. If it wasn't her, on the other hand, the question was, who?

 **#^#**

"Headmistress?" Quirrell entered the staff room, looking nervous, which was saying something as usually he was very stoic man. This day, however, even though the hour wasn't late, has already shaped up to be very trying. McGonagall looked at him hoping, against the hope, that he wasn't coming with more bad news. "I've been unable to find Gilderoy, he is not in his quarters, and I've consulted the Book of Presence, he is not within castle wards."

McGonagall visibly relaxed. Gilderoy missing - this, this she could deal with.

 **#^#**

Suddenly, he was jerked upright, the blindfold removed. He blinked furiously, trying to lubricate his eyes with tears; after who-knows-how-long they stung. Once he was pretty sure he could look around without wincing too much, he opened them properly and gasped.

He was sitting in a huge chamber, made completely out of stone and cobblestone. Everywhere he looked, there were numerous stone snakes, and in the middle stood a giant-sized statue or a regally looking man. It didn't take too much imagination and detective skills to realize that he was currently in the fabled Chamber of Secrets. What was interesting, however, was who he was with.

There were three other people he could see. On his right was Ginny Weasley, bound, blinded and gagged as he was just moments ago, but also unconcious and looking very pale, even for her. Not much further there was another body; he couldn't see its face, but by the color of the robes he would bet anything it was Gilderoy Lockhart. And when he looked to the left, he saw Hermione Granger - sitting comfortably on an armchair, drinking tea.

 **#^#**

"Auror Crones?" A tall, dark-skinned man entered a temporary office, a converted classroom really, where Aurors set up their shop after yet another attack happened.

"What is it, Shacklebot?"

"We have finished blood analysis, from the message. It closely matches the sample provided by Arthur Weasley," he reported sadly.

 **#^#**

 _So it was her, after all._ Hadrian looked at the bushy-haired girl apprehensively. Was she possessed? Or was she doing it consciously? What was her plan? Would she kill him? What was Lockhart doing here? Would anyone find them? Would they be quick enough?

 **#^#**

"Unhand me this instant!" Daphne angrily demanded, as she was being dragged by an uncouth Auror not caring about her demands in the slightest, towards the carriage that would take them to the Hogsmeade Station. The school was being evacuated, there was no way anyone in a position of power would risk another attack. This was already bad enough as it was. Some students, with Daphne Greengrass amongst them, didn't want to leave, however. It was mostly about those that had friends - or family, as was the case with Patil twins - petrified, staying in the castle... Or kidnapped and kept in an unknown location. The authorities were uncompromising however, and didn't budge. The school was to be empty by 11 AM - and so the Aurors were clearing it, class by class and floor by floor.

 **#^#**

"You are awake," Hermione remarked, looking bored. "It took almost two hours. I didn't think my stunner would be this powerful," she admitted. "How are you feeling?"

Hadrian was silent for a minute. Should he be confronting her, not unlike most hero characters act in such situation? Attempt to throw her off balance? Answer truthfully? Trade questions?

"Sore," He decided to go for a mix. "Though could be worse, I suppose. Granger, let me be blunt. What the fuck?"

"Yes, I imagine I would feel that way as well, were I on the floor. I suppose it's only fair I tell you. I know I shouldn't, all that crap villains usually say, giving the hero time to free themselves and finish the villain off... But I'm not going to kill you, so you might as well stay still and listen, can you do this?"

 _What the fuck?_

"It's not like I have a choice, you can see my hands, you have a wand, and so on," Hadrian answered, almost flippantly. Hermione smiled.

"Yes, and so on," she nodded. "I know that Ginny told you about the diary. By now, you probably realize, that I stole it. As soon as Ginny told me about it, and I took a look at it, I knew I wanted it. And I got it." She looked expectantly at Hadrian, as if daring him to say something. He did.

"Am I now speaking to Granger or the Diary?"

"A very good question, I suppose. It tried to possess me a few times, but mostly I managed to resist. After one of the possession attempts I talked to it. Told it, that I don't appreciate what it's trying to do to me. And it listened, and agreed to stop it. No, really," She added, seeing Hadrian's disbelieving look. "We reached an understanding. It would teach me magic and make me stronger, while I would aid it in its quest."

"Ridding the school off the muggleborns? You are one, you know."

"Please," Granger scoffed. "It was never his goal. But it's not important," she waved her hand. "I suppose you are wondering why are you here. It's simple, I have an offer for you."

Hadrian still had disbelief written all over his face. This whole situation was so completely ridiculous; a twelve-year-old girl was trying her hardest to look dignified, sitting on an armchair sipping tea in _a fucking chamber of secrets_ , telling him that she had a deal to offer? He would laugh, if it wasn't for the fact that he was tied, and two others were in similarly precarious situation next to him, unmoving.

"I listen," he allowed, trying to stall. But he would be lying if he said that he wasn't interested even a little.

"You helped me understand, that not everything I read in a book must be true. You showed me, that there are people that would like to decide what I should be able to learn, what is good magic and what is soon-to-be forgotten magic. It was kind of you. Even if you don't realize that, it was more kindness than anyone has offered me this year," Granger admitted, sounding sad. "So, here's the deal. The diary told me about a ritual, that might give me a great control over my magic, increasing it, almost doubling, and permanently to boot. I wish to offer you the opportunity to undergone the same ritual."

Hadrian's brain froze, rebooted, froze again and rebooted.

"Why? I know that I probably shouldn't say so in my position, but you do realize that I don't like you, Granger? Why offer me power?"

"You give me challenge. If only I did this ritual, there would be no one else to push me. I don't like you either, don't get the wrong idea. But I want to crush you fairly."

Hadrian snorted. Figures, even usurping heir of Slytherin, Granger acts like a Gryffindor through and through.

"What about them?" He nodded in the direction of Ginny and Lockhart. "Are you going to make them the same offer?" He asked, even as he already had an inkling why they were here.

"No," Granger waved her hand dismissively, "They are just ritual ingredients."

And again, he was right. He really should stop doing this.

"I see. Do they need to be sacrificed or what?"

"A life taken forcibly is required."

 **#^#**

"I'll kill him!" Ronald Weasley was working himself up again, pacing in an empty compartment of the train. He was made to leave his friends after almost half an hour long rant about how evil Potter was, and how it was surely him being the culprit. He had his suspicions from the moment they were caught polyjuiced, conveniently right when they started interrogating Potter. Now he was sure - Potter was the heir of Slytherin, and he had his sister. And he couldn't do anything about it.

 **#^#**

"And what if I don't accept? Will you let me go?"

"Would you let me go if our roles were reversed?"

"Ah."

 **#^#**

"Shacklebot, Dawlish, McGalley, you are team one. Moody, Roberts, Jones, you are team two. Emmerson, Smith, Schultz, team three. McKinnon, Andrews, you are with me. We start from the top floor and will work our way down. Here are your maps with sectors assigned to you marked. Once you are clear, message the rest and wait for them before moving floor down. I have no idea what the fuck is going on in this school, but I don't like it, and I want all of us on the same level and close. Use standard revealing charms plus roentgen and scent-revealing. I want every inch of this place scanned. Move!"

 **#^#**

"Tell me more about this ritual. How is it supposed to go?"

"We need a ritual circle, something that I've already prepared. It's all really straightforward: we need to be inside it, naked unfortunately," a slight blush crept on her cheeks, which looked rather disturbing, considering the topic. "Once there we speak the words of the ritual. When near the end, the life must be taken with a ritual dagger. I've already decided that I'll do it with Ginny; you can have Lockhart."

 **#^#**

"It won't be easy, I'm afraid. The castle has been searched many times over the centuries, and nobody managed to find the Chamber," McGonagall opined silently, as she cast another roentgen charm on the wall section next to her. She volunteered to form fifth team with Flitwick and Quirrell, but they had no luck so far.

 **#^#**

"Do they know it was you?"

"No, I was never seen."

Hadrian hesitated.

"Actually... How did you do this? How do you petrify someone? Why kill the cat?"

Granger sighed, getting rather irritated. She saw right through Hadrian's attempts at stalling.

"After the ritual is done, we will have to recuperate for about an hour. I can explain everything then. Now quit stalling, it won't help you. Do you know what Fidelius Charm is?" She suddenly asked.

"Some kind of ward, but I don't know much more..." Hadrian told her grudgingly. He didn't like not knowing, but he absolutely hated having to admit it.

"It's a charm, that completely erases knowledge of something from the minds of others. If, for example, cast on a house, it would effectively disappear, as no one would be able to locate it, even if they stood right next to it. It's one of the most powerful wards, and there is no known way to circumvent it." She looked at Hadrian, and he suddenly got a really bad feeling. "That's right," she confirmed. "The chamber and all entrances are under Fidelius. There won't be a rescue team coming here."

 **#^#**

"I hope he is fine," Daphne sobbed. This ride was unbearable, having to go home, not knowing what is happening to her friend. She wasn't the only one distraught; Tracy was completely inconsolable, with Draco, Blaise and Theo taking it, or hiding, only marginally better. As soon as they settled in their compartment, they locked the door with the most advanced locking charms known to them; they didn't want anyone finding them in such a state, they had a public image to maintain after all.

 **#^#**

"Listen," Hermione cautioned. "It's your choice. You can either join me, or join them. You have to consider, if you care enough to throw your life away for them. You have three minutes, and then you have to choose." With that she flicked her wand, releasing him from the ropes, allowing him to stretch out. When he tried to approach her, however, she aimed the wand at him making it clear, that while he could walk freely, he shouldn't come to close.

Seeing that he wasn't allowed anywhere close, instead Hadrian elected to go as far as possible. The chamber was huge; he wondered what kind of secrets were hidden here. They could wait for now, though, he had more pressing matter at hand. What should he do? Attacking her was probably not a possibility. If she could petrify multiple students and a ghost at the same time, she could take care of him. Running wasn't an option as well - he could see many corridors leading out of the chamber, and without knowing the exact layout of this place he had no hope of escaping. Giving his life up was also out of question. Was there any other possibility than accepting her _generous offer_? Could he, perhaps, accept it and then attack her with the dagger, when she wasn't looking? She would have to leave her wand out of the ritual circle, maybe this was his chance? He immediately scratched this idea; he didn't know much about rituals, but what he knew was that most of them tended to be extremely volatile if interrupted. He didn't want to destroy the castle or something.

 _Perhaps it won't be this bad,_ he mused. _It's not as if I like them or need them at all. Lockhart I could kill with pleasure, actually,_ he thought. _But will I be able to? Will she be able to, for that matter? We are twelve-year-olds, for magic's sake! Will such a kid be able to kill someone?_ He knew he could take someone else's life if necessary. He actually already has, few years ago. But then, he didn't have to do anything, as the lorry killed the kid. Would he be strong enough to kill Lockhart with the dagger?

 **#^#**

"Fourth floor is clear," Crones announced, seeing that all teams under his command assembled near the staircase. "We're moving to the third floor."

 **#^#**

"You chose well," Hermione praised. "In that case, lets not waste more time. Take this parchment and read it; there is a ritual there. Try to memorize as much as possible."

 **#^#**

"I've got something, there is a hidden space here, behind the one-eyed witch statue!" Robards called. Most o the teams were already finishing their assigned areas, so they all hurried to him. McGonagall inspected it, not aware of any secret tunnel or a room here.

"I'm afraid only Albus could control wards and make it open. As he is still officially a headmaster, I can't access them," She said regretfully. Quirrell shrugged.

"Then move back, I suggest," he calmly said, before blasting the statue apart, revealing dark, hidden tunnel. Auror in charge Crones furrowed his brow.

"Okay. Team one and two, go inside and investigate. We shouldn't split, but at the same time we don't have the luxury of time on our side, so we must keep searching if it turns out it's not our place. If you find anything at all, send a Patronus and we will come."

 **#^#**

"You go first," Hermione announced. Was it anxiety in her voice?

"You know the ritual better. You should go first, while I watch and learn," Hadrian disagreed.

She seemed hesitant, but then steeled herself and nodded.

"Very well. I'll do it. Just know that there is a ward on the ritual circle, you won't be able to interfere once I'm inside, or quit when you are. If you abandon the ritual in the middle, the surrounding magic will kill you. If you don't start it, I will." She said, her voice trembling slightly. Hadrian looked at her with apprehension.

"Stop looking," She snapped. "It's bad enough you'll see me naked, you are not getting a free striptease," she added red-faced.

"Shame, that," Hadrian replied, regaining some of his wits. Perhaps there was still a chance to avoid this mess, she was way more nervous than she let on earlier. "I've heard that sex magic is the most powerful kind," he smirked.

"True, but also most unstable and not permanent," She parried, flushed. "And we are not doing it now!"

"Now?" he raised his brow suggestively. "Then when do you propose?"

"Shut up you pig," Hermione answered, finishing undressing. "I'm not going to hear you once I cross the line, so you may keep talking your filth as much as you like." And with that she levitated Ginny inside the circle, discarded her wand and stepped into the circle.

 **#^#**

"How long has it been?" McGalley murmured.

"Twenty fucking minutes. It's one long passage," Roberts answered.

"Shut it up you two, keep looking and be prepared for anything," barked Moody.

 **#^#**

 _Argh_ , Hadrian swore silently. He tried picking Granger's wand, and he got a nasty burn instead. Obviously it didn't like other people using it. Looking for his own wand also turned out to be fruitless.

 **#^#**

"It's your turn now," Hermione called, sounding tired. She wasn't covering herself anymore; it seemed that the ritual was far too exhausting to care for her virtue. "You go in on this side of the circle, while I go out on the other. Don't try anything stupid. When I'm out, I will levitate the sacrifices."

Hadrian sighed. He couldn't see any other way out of this mess; he would have to dirty his hands.

 **#^#**

"What now?"

"Now you walk out, I clean you, give you back your wand and we stay here for an hour and recuperate. Then we do our oaths and leave the chamber."

"Wait, what oaths?"

Hermione looked at him strangely.

"Before we walk out of here, we will give oaths on our magic and life to not disclose what happened here," she articulated slowly, as if speaking to a mentally-challenged child.

"Why?"

"This will protect us. Not only from each other, if any of us decided to go and tattle, but also from mental attacks, legillimency, compulsions and veritaserum," Hermione explained. "This way we'll be safe, and if we word our oaths carefully, they will also give credence to our stories."

"And what, _exactly_ , our stories are going to be?"

 **===#^#===**

"What the fuck?!" Hadrian yelled, as a giant snake suddenly appeared.

"This is the Slytherin's beast. Basilisk." Hermione answered, her tone light and careless, as if talking about weather. "I used it to petrify people. And now we will use it to escape, both this place and any suspicion."

Hadrian looked dubiously at her, to which she took the diary from the floor, concentrated and then spoke, using parseltongue.

 _"We will run out of the chamber. You eat the bodies. Once we are out of here, follow us and try to petrify as many people as you can manage. This is your final order. You did well. It's time to rest."_

"...Wow. Just, wow, Granger. Hell of a plan," Hadrian said, definitely not impressed. "I know that we are currently allies and so on, but... Just be aware that for what you did to me today, for taking a choice away from me, for essentially blackmailing me to kill, I will some day kill you."

"I know you will try."

 **#^#**

"Team One, Two, get back immediately! We've got a situation here, a bloody giant snake is attacking us, the whole team three is down, get back here, second floor!"

Few seconds of a complete silence.

"What are you waiting for! Move it, move it! We are out of anti-apparition wards, apparate to our Hogsmeade post and floo to Hogwarts, NOW!" Roared Moody.

 **#^#**

"Tell us what happened." Dumbledore, sitting again behind his desk and in his office, demanded. "Miss Granger, you first."

"A few months ago Ginny showed me a mysterious, self-replying diary. I tried using it, and liked it a lot. Something made me steal it from her," Hermione said weakly, looking ready to cry. "I wrote a lot in it, and it was always writing back with praises, suggestions and advices. But I also started to experience blank moments, times that I couldn't remember, that I didn't know what was happening with me," she sniffed. Hadrian looked at her and had to admit, she was a good actress, though the oath probably helped a lot as well. "And then, few hours ago, I woke up inside the chamber of secrets, my hands bloodied, with Hadrian and Ginny tied up lying next to me, and a young man that I didn't know looming above us."

"When I woke up, it was basically the same," Hadrian picked the story up. "This boy started gloating about being the heir of Slytherin; he had a wand. He untied us, and told us to join him or die." Contrary to Granger's voice, he kept his own emotionless, as usually when speaking to authorities. "We pretended to agree, and he gave us our wands back. That's when Ginny decided to attack him. He killed her with Avada Kedavra curse on the spot."

Dumbledore looked grim, while McGonagall and other people gathered in the office were visibly shocked by this development. They knew that if the pre-teens were alone, without young Weasley, it was most likely because she didn't survive, but to have it confirmed was another story.

"She crumbled to the ground, completely lifeless," Hermione sobbed. "I tried ennervating her, but it didn't work."

"He then made us swear an unbreakable vow to not attack him or disclose anything he would tell us to anyone," Hadrian added silenty.

Moody swore loudly, kicking the closest chair, and leaving the office. Headmaster looked resigned.

"What else can you tell us?"

"We tried to subdue him later, but he was like a ghost," Granger whispered. "He could hold a wand, but nothing we did to him worked. Then he ordered the snake to attack us. I covered myself with the diary, and it halted its attack in the last moment... But not before impaling the book with its fang." Dumbledore stood up, looking alarmed.

"Where is that book?"

"That's just it, headmaster, as soon as the snake bit it, the boy disappeared in black smoke, and the diary dissolved in the snake's venom. That's when we bolted out. You know the rest, we managed to find our way out, and then you found us."

 **===#^#===**

"They are not telling the truth," Moody insisted. "Something's fishy."

"Yes, that is obvious Alastor, thank you," Dumbledore massaged his temples. Ever since he learned the reason for his reinstatement as a headmaster, his head hurt badly. "They were made to swear unbreakable vows, the extent of which they are unable to tell us. It's obvious they were forced to lie to us. It is thus our role to find out what really happened down there. Were you able to gain the entrance to the chamber?"

"No," he admitted. "We know, roughly, where the entrance should be. But we are unable to find it, or, as I suspect, we are unable to comprehend it."

Albus looked up at him.

"You suggest it's under Fidelius?"

"Yes. And if that's the case, we are never going in."

 **===#^#===**

There was no end of year feast. Instead, a memorial was held for Ginny Weasley. Dumbledore said some words; all her friends and family did too. It was small comfort, especially since they never recovered her body. The message from the wall held true; her skeleton would lie in the chamber forever, most thought. Only two individuals knew that the chamber was now impeccably clean, and with no trace of anything ever going on there.

* * *

 **A/N:** Huh, that was intense, wasn't it? I wonder how many of you hate what I did there, let me know in the reviews :) Ginny was, I'm afraid, always going to die young - even though in general I like her. What do you think of Hermione? She's not what most of you expected her to be, huh? Don't worry, she is not going to go full dark lady - there is another fic for that ;) Her motives and reasons will be explained further in the next chapters. Third year will come live next week, though I can't promise the day; I thought this chapter would be online two days ago, but it took me longer, so who knows what is going to happen.


	5. Chapter 5: Third Year pt 1

**A/N:** Ok, so a fair warning: there isn't much in terms of action here, no bodies, no duels (mostly) etc.; there is, however, a lot of politics, complimenting and completing the rest of a setup from the previous chapters. So if it isn't your thing, you should probably skip this one; I might provide a _"previously"_ note at the beginning of the next chapter so you are not completely out of the loop.

 **A/N2:** I've decided to split this chapter again; the second part will be published probably tomorrow.

 **===#^#===**

"Boy!" Uncle Vernon barged into Hadrian's room, and froze immediately, seeing his nephew aiming the wand-thingie at him.

"Uncle, how many times do I have to remind you, that I do not like you barging in here without knocking first? I'm honestly fed up with this. I thought we've reached an agreement after my return from school?" Hadrian's voice was positively icy. And indeed, they've had a deal: Hadrian wouldn't do or talk about anything _freaky_ , and in return, they would leave him alone and respect his privacy. The reason for such an agreement? Dursleys were terrified. Not of him; they didn't think he would or could harm them. They were terrified, because their real son, Dudley, started showing interest in Hadrian's world, in magic. And this was something they couldn't allow, so they decided to make a deal with Hadrian. Nothing freakish - peaceful stay and privacy.

Only his uncle didn't seem too keen on respecting it. It was now a fourth time he entered Hadrian's room without invitation, making some demands - and so Hadrian decided he has had enough. Usually, when he rebuked Vernon, the man got angry to the point of his face turning purple. This time however, seeing a hated instrument aimed at him, he turned white as sheet.

"Just... Just... Stay in your room today, we... We... Marge's coming," he stuttered, backing out slowly. "If you behave, I... I will sign this paper you want me to," he managed to say, before all but bolting out of the room. Hadrian hummed, lowering his wand. The paper his uncle mentioned was Hogsmeade permission slip, something that he would need to be able to visit magical village of Hogsmeade. He would stay in his room. Not because he cared about Vernon's wishes; but because he completely despised _aunt Marge_.

 **#^#**

"Oh no, Vernon, I want him here, we shall talk," Marge declared, cruel sparks dancing in her eyes. It was obvious she was up to no good; she certainly would try tormenting Hadrian somehow, if not physically, then at least verbally. Something that Hadrian had no plans on allowing.

"I don't think so," he said coldly, fixing her with his eyes. "I'm coming upstairs, while you can enjoy the company. Good night," he announced, unperturbed by the woman's enraged expression.

"Come back here boy, I did not let you go!" She spat furiously. "Vernon, tell him!" She rounded on her brother. The argument went on, but Hadrian completely muted it out, as he entered his room and closed the door.

 **#^#**

"Uncle Vernon, here," Hadrian said, handing him the permission slip.

"Now listen here..." Vernon started, but before he could properly work himself up, Hadrian interrupted him.

"I did as you wanted me to, that is, stayed in my room. It most certainly was not in our agreement to keep your sister happy. So kindly sign this and we might go back to ignoring each other."

Grumbling, Vernon Dursley gave his signature.

 **===#^#===**

The old book store, where his aunt once took him, and where he bought his first gem of a book about his school, 'Hogwarts' lost secrets', once again turned out to be an amazing place, a treasure cove of forgotten knowledge, Hadrian thought, as he walked out with his newest acquisition, namely 'Hogwarts' by-laws', a book he has heard about, but been unable to obtain. Well, now he had it.

 **===#^#===**

"Uncle Vernon? Could you take me to London tomorrow? I'll be staying there for the rest of the summer."

"How so?" For once, Vernon looked intrigued by something his nephew told him. Probably it was because suddenly he saw an opportunity to have a full three weeks of peace and family time.

"I'll be staying with a friend, and will no longer bother you till next summer, if that's fine with you."

"When would you like to go?" Vernon asked, suddenly eager to help Hadrian.

"9 AM will be fine."

"9 AM sharp that is."

 **===#^#===**

"Good morning, I'd like to make a withdrawal. Here's my key. I'd also like to ask for a legal assistance, how much would I have to pay for an hour of legal counsel?"

The teller looked curiously at Hadrian. It wasn't often that human requested a lawyer. Magicals were a proud species, considering using legal help as unbefitting and lowering their own social status. Most of them, in dire times, preferred to rely on family members that had some legal refinement, rather than look for a professional. Which more often than not ended very badly for them, or not as good as it could have, at the very least. And yet, here was a human teenager looking to see a lawyer. Curious.

"It's a standard meeting fee of five Galleons, and then further five for each hour, so for one hour of his time you'd have to pay 10 Galleons," he finally replied, wondering if the high price would dissuade his young client.

"Very well, please charge my account for this. When can I talk to him?"

"He will meet you once you are done with your withdrawal."

 **#^#**

"Mister Potter, It's a real pleasure to finally meet you," said Adrian Bowls, an attorney working for Gringotts. He was a young man of about thirty years old, trying to save enough to open his own practice in Diagon Alley. The fact that he worked for Goblins and not on his own yet, didn't actually work against him; Goblins were known for their rigorous screening process, during which they thoroughly test all the candidates, ensuring that the highest standards are met. "How can I help you?"

"Good morning sir," Hadrian said while shaking his hand. "You see, I have recently acquired a rather interesting book, and I'd like to consult some things with you. Namely..."

The meeting took over five hours after all, but Hadrian was happy enough with the results, believing them worth every Knut paid.

 **#^#**

'Defeating Dark Witch of Angelburgia - a new book by Gilderoy Lockhart!' a poster on the book store's window said, causing Hadrian to frown in confusion. He quite vividly remembered spilling Lockhart's blood all over the ritual circle; how could the man write anything new? Could it be that he perhaps managed to send a new text to the publishing house while he was still alive? Or did the publisher decide to use his name as an alias for other writers now? Of course there was still the possibility that he came back as a ghost, but since Hadrian wasn't yet arrested, he felt safe dismissing this possibility.

 **#^#**

"Excuse me sir, are there any requirements to use this library?" Hadrian asked an older man sitting behind the desk in the building of Magical Public Library. From the outside it didn't look like much, just like most of the Diagon Alley shops. Expanding charms weren't invented for nothing though, and here they were used heavily. The result was breathtaking - space the size of at least three soccer fields filled with bookshelves full books.

"There are," The aged wizard nodded. "For starters, you have to pay a five Galleons fee, read and agree to the rules and give us your basic data," he looked at Hadrian, who easily nodded; this was easy enough, provided the rules were reasonable. "And that's about it, really. The rules are simple - all the books stay here, so no checking them out. If you want, there is a magical duplicator, that will allow you to copy a whole book that you can take with you. Just be aware that it's not permanent, and the copied book will disappear in exactly one month," The wizard cautioned. "You obviously need to take proper care of the books, no eating or drinking. I'd also advise that you stay out of the sections labelled with numbers from 78 to 125 and 280 to 342, as they contain books about dark magic, but we do not restrict access here, so it's really up to you. Once you visit us, you need to present your library card. In exchange, you will get a desk assigned, with a handy list of spells to help you with your research. You will be happy to know, that these are exempt from the underage magic restrictions," he smiled slightly.

"Very well, I'd like to sign up. Here are five Galleons, and my name is Hadrian Potter," he declared, and then promptly rolled his eyes as the wizard's head shot up, eyes widening slightly. Somehow he managed to forget just how famous he was.

 **#^#**

"Thank you," Hadrian said politely, taking the offered token with desk number - 736. "Can you tell me please, where can I find law section? I'm especially interested in the laws governing the Wizengamot."

"I'm not really sure. The law section takes rows 410 through 745, but to pinpoint what you're looking for you should probably use the indexing spell."

"Thank you."

 **#^#**

"Hadrian, what a surprise, what are yeh doin' here?" a friendly voice suddenly boomed, making Hadrian jump slightly. When he turned around, he saw someone he wouldn't exactly take for a scholarly type.

"Hagrid?"

"Hello Hadrian, good to see yeh here," the giant of a man smiled. Hadrian was never the biggest fan of Hagrid, but he knew many of the students liked to visit the man in his hut, and he was generally well-liked and respected. Hadrian smiled uncertainly; he didn't have much contact with the gates' keeper, and the last time he saw him up close was when he stole the dragon's egg. Which, by the way, was something he had yet to look into ways of... _Liquidating_.

"Hello Hagrid," He answered politely nonetheless. "I'm studying, trying to learn as much about wizarding world as possible. And what are you doing here?"

"Ah," Hagrid waved his big hand dismissively. "With tha' mess with Basilisk, terrible story, terrible, they figured I wasn' guilty when they kicked me from school, so now I'm allowed to get my own wand an' take exams if I study hard enough."

Hadrian blinked. Did this mean that Hagrid was kicked out of school because someone thought he was responsible for the first Chamber's opening? Was the magical population really this retarded? He knew most of them lacked common sense, but really, accusing a half giant of opening a place that was supposed to only allow the purest of Slytherin line to enter? _Like, really..._? Leaving this train of thought, he focused on the rest of Hagrid's answer.

"So how far are you now?" Hadrian asked curiously.

"I'm jus' revisin', yeh see? I was kicked out when I was in a third year, so I know a bit about the magic. Professor Dumbledore said tha' I can take OWLS next summer," he beamed, happy that he could finally rejoin the world of magic properly. Hadrian smiled; he didn't care much about the man, but it was clear that a great injustice happened, and it was good to see it fixed. And speaking of injustices... He should probably, some time before the summer's end, look into this Sirius Black situation that he read about in archival Prophets, as it smelled fishy a mile away.

 **===#^#===**

"So, what else do you know about Thestrals?" Blaise asked, looking extremely interested.

"How is it Blaise, that each year you are asking about the train, carriages, now Thestrals? Is this going to be a thing till the seventh year?" Tracy looked at the well-tanned boy interested.

"I'm just curious," he answered defensively. "Can't I?"

"You can," Daphne confirmed. "What I'm more interested in is why exactly do you think we have the information you are looking for?" She inquired, to which Blaise slightly blushed.

"Well, last year Hadrian knew all the answers."

"Well, yes, I sometimes read books, you know." Hadrian answered, grinning. "But unfortunately I know next to nothing about the creatures. Other than that I'll probably be able to see them now..." he trailed, causing others to shift uncomfortably. Just as Tracy was about to say something to break the tension, compartment's door slid open.

" _Bombarda!_ " a voice yelled, and a brown beam raced towards Hadrian.

To the girls, what happened next looked as if the time itself slowed down. They saw the brown light of a blasting course speeding towards their friend, who suddenly was no longer there, moving so fast that just a second later he was in a hitting distance of his attacker. And hit he did; even though he no longer attended martial arts regularly, he still exercised physically as often as he could, and he was strong. Especially compared to most of the wizards, who thought that physical exercises were for muggles.

And so, at the same time that the course connected with Hadrian's seat, Ronald Weasley sailed through the compartment and hit its door so hard that some blood actually appeared around his head.

When Weasley woke up a while later with a groan, he found six wands aimed at him.

"What the hell was that Weasley?" Theo Nott growled. He was the closest to Hadrian, and had the spell hit its intended target, he would be hurt as well. Fortunately it didn't, and was instead absorbed by the cushioning charms on the coach.

"I know what you did, Potter," Weasley murmured weakly, spitting some blood in between his words. "You killed my sister, and I will avenge her," he declared.

"You do realize," Daphne started cautiously, "that you have just threatened Hadrian Potter with death, right after firing at him a spell that could be considered lethal used from such close distance?"

"Fuck you all," Weasley spat. "Just get this over with, call a prefect or whatever, I'll get you some other time Potter," he declared.

"Yeah, unlikely," Hadrian mused. What to do? It was clear the boy was not joking, if the spell he used was anything to go by. _Bombarda_ , while not as powerful as some other similar courses and hexes, would most certainly grievously harm or even outright kill him fired from such close distance. It would be best to simply get rid of him and eliminate the threat, but it wasn't possible, not with his friends present. And even if they weren't there, he couldn't just walk around killing people he didn't like. He also couldn't just beat him up - he would be punished later when Weasley tattled on him, which he would. And yet, he couldn't afford to let Weasley think he could do whatever he liked. "Theo? Do you know if there is, perhaps, any teacher aboard?"

"Umm," The addressed boy said helpfully. "I think so, yes. Do you want me to go and fetch him?"

"Yes, go."

 **#^#**

 _This was stupid_ , Ronald grimly thought, as he looked at the teacher, one Remus Lupin, that tried to fix his nose with some well-cast _episkey_ s. _I shouldn't have lost my cool. Now he knows I'm after him and it will be more difficult to get him,_ he mused, completely ignoring questions aimed at him by the newest staff addition. _I'll have to bid my time and prepare something. But I will avenge you little sister, this I promise._

 **#^#**

Worrying. That's how Hadrian would describe Weasley's behaviour once in the presence of a teacher. He couldn't claim to know the boy well, but he has seen his fair share of random squabbles the red-headed boy and Draco got themselves into, and he knew that usually Weasley would try to put blame on his opponent, claiming self-defence or other such shit. It wasn't like him to sit and wait patiently, ignoring the teacher's questions. Hadrian wished that he had someone to practice Legilimency with, but unfortunately there was no one, so he couldn't take a peek of what the boy was thinking. One thing was sure: he would have to be much more cautious this year to avoid landing himself in a mess not dissimilar to the one with basilisk.

 **#^#**

"...And two weeks of detention with Filch."

"Are you joking?" Daphne angrily interrupted their newest teacher. "He makes an assassination attempt and all he gets is a slap on the wrist and a week worth of detentions?"

"That's for now, miss Greengrass," Lupin answered coolly. "We will be talking about this with his head of house, and if I know Minerva, he will suffer much more. Now excuse me, I've got to go. And you would do well to change to your school robes, we will soon be arriving." And with that Lupin quit their compartment.

 **===#^#===**

"Because of the extraordinary circumstances, there has been no House Cup awarded at the end of the year. Thus, no one will benefit from it; instead, we decided to put a special system in place, just for this year. We will evaluate your points at the end of each month. The house with the most points will get the privileges for themselves for a next month; this way, I hope, each house might have a chance of seeing what it is they are fighting for.

And lastly, I'd like to warmly welcome our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, professor Remus Lupin."

 **===#^#===**

"So, Hadrian, what do you think they have planned for this year?" Daphne's eyes gleamed with mischief. "The first year it was troll, second, basilisk, what now? Dementors? Werewolfs? Lethifolds? Obscurius?"

"I sincerely hope it's not the Obscurius of Lethifolds," Tracy shuddered. "Perhaps a peaceful school year for once?"

"Don't hold your breath," Hadrian smirked, immediately drawing attention to himself.

"Is there something you'd like to share?" Tracy suspiciously asked.

"Maybe?"

"Spill!"

"Okay, okay," Hadrian raised his hands, surrendering. "I _might_ have found an interesting book during the summer, which mentioned something forgotten yet very curious..." he mused.

"I said spill!" Tracy cried forcefully.

"I've found a book on Hogwart's by-laws," he admitted. Seeing the blank stares, he elaborated. "It's been largely forgotten, even though it shouldn't have, as it has never been repelled. There are tons of interesting rules there."

"Rules," Tracy did a disgusted face. "Really Hadrian? Like, really?"

Hadrian sighed.

"Yes Trace, really. Let me give you an example. You know about House Council, right? They are in each house, but they are only because each house wanted to have some sort of formalised internal structure. It was, of course, encouraged by the staff. But what most people don't remember nowadays, is that there used to be a school council as well, its structure based off a Wizengamot, with lots of power." Seeing that he had his friends attention, Hadrian continued. "According to the rules, there are to be five representatives from each house, and one more picked randomly from all the seventh years, making it total of twenty-one members. The way they are elected is to be decided in-house, so we might for example choose to hold an election, or simply delegate five members of our own House Council. There is only one stipulation - this body is to by formed of students, for students and by students, so no teacher should interfere."

"Well, that _really is_ interesting," Theo remarked. "You said something about power, what can this council do?"

"Well, for starters, not unlike Wizengamot, the Council is a judiciary body. It deals with appeals, so if a student believes to have been punished too harshly, he can appeal to the Council. The council might decide to absolve him of his punishment or uphold it. It doesn't have the power to change it, and to avoid abuse, there is a risk associated - if the Council decides to uphold the punishment, it is automatically made more severe unless the issuing teacher intervenes.

Continuing with the judiciary power, any students may, for the lack of better word, 'sue' another one if he believes that someone needs to be disciplined, and teachers refuse to do anything, or their reaction is inadequate. The council might dismiss the case or, if it finds it is substantiated, might decide the punishment, ranging from removing points and giving detentions to recommending that the board suspend the guilty party. If the board refuses, the Council might declare such student 'ostracized', meaning that they will be barred from playing Quidditch or any other school-wide activity, will lose their House colours," at this the girls gasped horrified, "and will be unable to partake in House Cup. Basically it is a suspension without formal suspension. It is also expected, that others will avoid them for the time of their punishment.

The council has a right to vote a resolution addressed to the board of governors. The board usually consists of eleven members, but if a resolution is passed, it counts as two more votes, which might well tip the balance.

The Council might also pass resolutions with new laws, as long as they are not conflicting with the Hogwarts Charter, the existing by-laws or the state law. This 'school law' will come into power in two weeks time from the vote, unless it is repelled by the Board of Governors; but for this to happen, the board's vote would have to be unanimous. Another safeguard is also in place, any law created is effective only for a year, and then must be voted on again."

Slytherins sitting in Hadrian's room were looking at him in wonder, eyes wide.

"Bloody hell," Tracy commented.

"Yeah," Hadrian smirked. "That's not all. The Council would also have to be consulted on the matters of great importance to the school, for example hiring new teachers, creating or discarding subjects, though it would still be Headmaster's prerogative. The Council could, however, petition the Board of Governors to overturn Headmaster's decision."

"..."

"..."

"Why hasn't it been functioning for so long though?" Daphne wondered aloud.

"Simple," Potter Heir answered. "As you've just heard, the Council is the real power. Most headmasters didn't like it, so they somehow prevented it from forming, and in time the knowledge of this particular piece of legislation faded."

"So... Do you plan on reinstating it?"

Hadrian grinned.

"You bet I do."

 **===#^#===**

"Headmaster Dumbledore? My name is Adrian Bowls, and I am an attorney. I have been hired to spearhead a case that my client is interested in..."

 **#^#**

"Absolutely not," Dumbledore shook his head. "It would be unwise to put such power in the hands of children. Let them have the peace and joyful youth, while the politics is left to adults."

"Headmaster Dumbledore, I'm afraid I might not have been clear. You _do not_ have a choice in this case. The Wizengamot has already been informed, and you are required to reinstate this body as soon as possible, no later than in two weeks time from now, as per the by-laws."

"Come now, mister Bowls, surely you do realise the by-laws you are referring to are no longer in effect? This law fell into desuetude..."

"The _Desuetudo_ does not apply here, as it is not a state law, but a part of Hogwarts Charter, which you took an oath to uphold, Headmaster. And as you very well know, the Charter might only be changed by the combined board of governors and at least two heirs to the founders' lines working together, unanimously even. There is nothing you can do about it," Adrian shrugged, looking very smug.

 **#^#**

"Cornelius, do you have a moment?" a disembodied head of Albus Dumbledore suddenly appeared in the Minister for Magic office's fireplace.

"Ah, Headmaster, what a pleasant surprise! What can I do for you?" Fudge jovially exclaimed, inwardly cringing. This has already been a tough day, and the last thing he wanted now was dealing with Dumbledore. He cursed himself for allowing the man direct access to his office; something that he would have to rectify as soon as he could think of a way to do so without offending the Chief Warlock. Perhaps he would just say that they were updating security...

"Ah, thank you Cornelius. Do you know anything about Adrian Bowl, and the case he is piloting?"

"Oh, you mean the School Council?" Fudge said dismissively, making Dumbledore blink. Since when did the minister learn of things faster than him? "I know about it. I gave him my full blessing, not that I could stop him in any way," he laughed slightly. "It is, after all, part of Hogwarts Charter. And, to be honest, I for one am curious what the kids will do with such power," he declared easily. He saw that Dumbledore was extremely worried, but he wasn't. The by-laws clearly stated that anything the kids would be able to do would have to comply with the law, so the only risk was to Dumbledore's power base. And what he told the aged wizard was also true - he was very curious what the youngsters would do with the power, and what sort of legislation they would try to pass. For him, a politician, such an insight into a potential opponents and allies years before they even graduated was priceless.

 **#^#**

"Dumbledore, now that we are all here, care to enlighten us what was so important to warrant an emergency board meeting?" An irate Lord Malfoy demanded.

"Respectful Lords and members of this board, I come before you with a rather curious problem, the kind that I have no idea how to deal with..."

 **#^#**

"I must admit, this is slightly worrying," Dowager Longbottom stated. "It seems to me that this Council is rather... Overpowered."

"Yes, it seems so. Especially with the power to absolve the punishments and to act as a member of this very board," Lord Smith seconded, shaking his head.

"I am not so sure," Lord Malfoy said thoughtfully. "The way I see it, this won't be easy to abuse. If I read correctly, to absolve a student, a vote of three quarters in favour is required, which means, effectively, that at least three houses would have to agree. It is rare for such united front to form in the school, and if it happens, than it might, perhaps, mean that the punishment was indeed unwarranted."

"Nonsense," Lord Auckley disagreed strongly. "Only teachers shall be able to issue and change punishments. If we allow children do so, we essentially agree to an anarchy."

Dumbledore, having finished explaining his cause, sat in his chair, silently watching the discussion. As a headmaster he had a right to call the meeting and to present the issue at hand to the board, but once done, he had to wait for the verdict, unable to speak without permission. Right now he wasn't sure, if the upcoming vote would be in his favour. He couldn't see any clear lines and couldn't predict how the members would vote. He hoped that the board would put a stop to this foolishness; the last thing they needed were children playing politics with real power over school life.

As soon as his meeting with Adrian Bowls ended, Dumbledore set off to find all the information possible about the way things were the last time this Council existed. What he found was pretty much exactly what he expected - the Council was abolished sometime in 1785, because the Headmaster then believed it to be harmful to the school. Problem was, as he was magically bound by the oath every headmaster had to take, soon he lost most of his magic. To prevent this from happening again, he forbade students from speaking about the Council and hid all the copies of Hogwarts' by-laws, as the oath activated only once a headmaster has known for certain that a rule existed. Thus, the following headmasters, not knowing where to look for the by-laws, were not affected - allowing the school to exist peacefully without the Council.

Of course he had no such peace. He has read the by-laws himself - that damned Bowls made sure of that - and had to quickly think how to limit the damage.

"Enough," he suddenly heard Malfoy's raised voice. "This discussion is superfluous. The by-law is legit, still in power, and a part of Hogwarts Charter, so we can't change it. Like it or not, the School Council will reform, and we can't really do anything about that. What we can do, is observe its proceedings. I for one am planning to do so; this way we might be better prepared to deal with whatever legislation they might try to pass, and perhaps strike it down. There is also another possibility; many of us here have a child in Hogwarts. And it is not forbidden to talk to one's own child."

Dumbledore sighed. That was one more reason why it shouldn't be functioning - it was more than certain that parents would try to manipulate their charges and extend the political battle from the Wizengamot to Hogwarts.

 **===#^#===**

"Zabini, get everybody here, now." Snape snapped at the closest student he could see. He was sent to make an announcement and needed his whole house. It took only few minutes, and he could speak.

"A new body is being reformed in this school," he scowled, showing his snakes the displeasure at the mere thought. "The School Council consists of twenty-one students, five from each House and one randomly picked from all seventh years. It is not stated how the students are to be chosen, so I will do so myself. Malfoy, Pucey, Farley, Zabini, Flint - you will represent the house. Meet me in..." he suddenly stopped speaking, as he saw that a student dared to shook his head and raised a hand.

"Potter," Snape spat. "I have nothing to say to you, so you will be better off not interrupting me."

"Excuse me Professor, but you are wrong. The by-laws clearly say that the manner in which the representatives are chosen is up to the House, and is to be decided by the students; moreover it is expressively stated that no teacher may interfere in the process."

A few gasps were heard, mainly from the lower years, while at the same time older students looked speculatively at Hadrian. Did this mean that he was finally about to enter politics?

"Detention, Potter, do not test me," Professor growled, but Hadrian wasn't intimidated.

"I refuse, sir. As per the by-laws, as soon as you declared that the representatives are to be chosen, regardless of the fact that you then tried to unlawfully select them, you have lost the right to issue detentions till such time that the Council convenes and is able to vote should I wish to appeal the punishment," he stated calmly.

"And just how would you know this Potter?" Snape suddenly asked, suspicion creeping into his voice.

"I like to read, sir."

"..."

"..."

"You have till tomorrow, 9 AM sharp to choose who you want to see in this farce. And as soon as the Council is established, you Potter will be serving detention for the rest of the month." And with this closing statement Snape left the common room, leaving behind a sea of awed students that couldn't quite believed that a schoolboy won verbal duel with the infamous Potion's Master. Now they needed to choose four more representatives.

 **#^#**

"How shall we go about this?" Cormac McLaggen asked loudly, as soon as McGonagall left the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Obviously we will hold elections," stated some muggleborn girl, receiving a fair share of nods.

"Okay everyone," Fred Porge, leader of the House Council, yelled. "First we need to establish who wants to be in. Please put your name on this parchment; then, immediately after dinner, we will have a meeting, and candidates, provided there will be more than five total, will present themselves. And then we will vote."

 **#^#**

"May I have your attention please," Dumbledore said as he rose and approached the lectern. "I have just been given the last list of names of the chosen representatives to the School Council. I will read it now, in the order in which they were given to me." He cleared his throat. "From Gryffindor, Granger, Brown, Weasley, Longbottom and Thomas. Well, I see Gryffindor supports the youths!" He announced, clapping loudly. Indeed, Gryffindor's choice was rather peculiar - they all supported third years. "From Ravenclaw, we have Patil, Goldstein, Chang, Featherweather and Li! Hufflepuff's chosen ones are Finch-Fletchley, Bones, Turpin, Diggory and Zake! And finally," he looked all over the hall, seeing anticipation. "Slytherin has decided to choose Malfoy, Potter, Greengrass, Flint and Farley. And the last member, a randomly picked seventh-year student, is Steven Rainford! Yes, yes," he raised his hands to silence the applause. "Congratulations to all of you. The first meeting of the Council will be held in this hall tomorrow at five in the evening; as per the by-laws, I'll be present and presiding until such time that you choose your chairman. Now, enough of politics, tuck in!"

 **===#^#===**

Not two minutes after Hadrian returned to his room, a knocking forced him to stand up from his comfortable chair.

"A meeting of MoCs is happening in two minutes in Flint's room, be there," said Malfoy, and then quickly left.

 _MoCs, huh?_

 **#^#**

"What do you want Malfoy?" Flint asked impatiently, once all Slytherin's representatives were present.

"Well, I thought we should perhaps discuss our stance on certain matters, and perhaps compare our notes on other members," the blond boy explained. "This way we may present united front."

"No offence Malfoy, but I very much doubt we will be able to present united front in the Council. We differ too much," disagreed Flint. "Our fathers argue all the time on different pieces of legislation, and seeing as we are virtually copies of our fathers in this regard, I can't see this unity happening."

"But what about Slytherin rules? We always have presented unity outside these walls," Farley piped in, worried.

"This is bigger than House rules. House rules go only few decades back, while the School Council existed from the beginning of the school. Out there we will be representatives of our House, yes, but our decisions will affect whole school. It's inevitable that there will be differences," Hadrian looked at them.

"And what about Snape? He will be pissed, he already is..."

"See if I care," Hadrian shrugged, shocking them. "As soon as we are officially sworn, I will propose a piece of legislation granting us effectively an immunity, making it impossible for teachers to punish us for whatever we do in our capacity as representatives."

"Can we do this?" Daphne asked unsure. This sounded huge, and teachers would most definitely fight it.

"We can. In fact, it won't be the first time it is voted; such law existed for over five hundred years, so it's nothing new."

"Okay, on this I can agree, I will vote for this proposal," Flint accepted, and continued, seeing nods from the other four. "But there will surely be things that I'll want to see through that you won't support. What then?"

"Well, if we agree we don't care about Snape and unity as far as Council is concerned, then I suppose it's natural that political blocks will appear," Daphne reasoned. "Then it's just a matter of joining the one that suits you best."

"Flint, just what exactly are you planning that you think we'll disagree on?" Draco asked suspiciously. "We are all kind of conservative, willing to preserve our world, to stop all the changes that insipid liberals are trying to enact, that would probably cause our way of life to collapse. What is it that you don't agree with us on?"

"It's not what I don't agree with you about," Flint admitted. "It's more about what you won't agree with me."

"For example?" Draco demanded.

"I'd like to allow the proper titles, so for example you could call someone a mudblood without the fear of punishment. I'd like to remove the ban on using dark arts. And so on."

Malfoy's brow furrowed.

"I see. Well, you are correct then, I won't allow it. I'm all for using dark arts, but not necessarily in school. Allowing them would force the school to teach them. Now those who want to learn them can do so from their own libraries or even a public one, but as it is rare, it gives us, proper wizards and witches, an advantage."

"See? That's just one thing that we disagree on, and there are more. Surely there will be plethora of things we will vote together on, but it won't be enough to present unity."

"The way I see it, the three of us," Hadrian said, pointing at himself, Daphne and Draco, "will form a conservative block. You, Flint, will form or join a 'pro-dark' block, though you will have to think about the name. Farley, what about you?"

"I'm with you guys."

"Great. Now, even though tomorrow is just the first session, I can already say it will be important. For one, Dumbledore will do his best to try to influence us, something we must resist..."

 **#^#**

It turned out that each House held its own meeting of 'MoCs', and so when the day and time of the first session of the School Council arrived, at least five blocks have already formed. Most of the representatives arrived to the Hall half an hour earlier than required or more to feel the waters, and soon Inter-house factions formed.

The Great Hall, for the purpose of the session, was rearranged. Instead of five tables with chairs, a semi-circular stand was erected, clearly made to resemble main Wizengamot chamber. In the middle, facing all the seats, stood a lectern for the guest speaker, behind which was a huge desk with a giant chair for the chairman.

The most numerous turned out to be a liberal faction, led by none other than Hermione Granger. Right next to her sat Susan Bones and Lavender Brown. Behind her were two seats, occupied by Justin Finch-Fletchley and Bartholomew Zake.

Directly opposite them was a conservative faction, with Hadrian Potter, Daphne Greengrass, Draco Malfoy and Gemma Farley, all sitting in one line, showing that there was no one leader but rather all members were equal.

Two more opposing factions formed: a 'pro-light', led by Ronald Weasley with Dean Thomas and Neville Longbottom, and a 'pro-dark', with Marcus Flint, Lisa Turpin, Su Li and Cho Chang.

And lastly, those who didn't want to declare themselves or simply didn't feel strongly enough about any of the possible choices, the 'moderates' of sorts, were Cedric Diggory, Amelia Featherweather, Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil.

This was a view that greeted Albus Dumbledore when he entered the hall, immediately lowering his mood. He hoped he was going to find a bunch of confused children that he could lead. Seeing political blocks formed wasn't something that he wanted to see. Nevertheless, keeping appearances of happiness, he strode towards the lectern, smiling widely.

 **#^#**

"Welcome!" Dumbledore called. "I'm happy to see you here, and I hope this will be a very productive session. I was thinking that for the starters we could get to know each other, what do you say?" He smiled benignly.

"With all due respect, Headmaster, I believe we need to choose a chairman as soon as possible," Cedric Diggory said. Seeing that almost all the others nodded, Dumbledore sighed.

"Very well. In this case I now open the floor to candidatures. A candidature must be seconded by at least one other member, as per the by-laws."

"I propose Cedric Diggory," Padma Patil declared, to which the boy nodded his consent.

"I propose Ronald Weasley," yelled Dean Thomas.

"I move for Susan Bones," Hermione Granger calmly proposed.

Seeing that no more candidatures were forthcoming, Dumbledore announced that they had now five minutes to think about the candidates, and then a secret vote would be held.

 **#^#**

"The results are as follows: Susan Bones, seven votes, Ronald Weasley, four votes, Cedric Diggory, ten votes. Congratulations, Chairman Diggory," Dumbledore announced grandly. "Now that we have this out of the way, I suggest that we adjourn this meeting until such time that the new chairman feels confident enough to lead this body's session, say, in one month time."

"Thank you, Headmaster, but this won't be necessary. I have made sure to read carefully all the rules governing this body and I feel confident that I will be able to lead the Council. I do, however, see the need for a break. I suggest we reconvene in one hour; during this time you can all submit any proposals or issues you want discussed, and we will debate on them."

 **#^#**

Dumbledore silently cursed. He was hoping that they would listen to him, but it seemed that the power has gone to their heads. If they agreed to adjourn the meeting for a month, he would be able to work on them, convince them not to do too much, limiting any potential damage. Now, however, there was no telling what could happen, with them so eager to 'govern'.

 **#^#**

"I declare that the first School Council session is recommenced. I have here four submitted proposals. We will discuss them in the order they are on my desk." Cedric looked up, grinning. "The first one is the proposed piece of legislation that would make it illegal for Slytherins to be in the Council...?" He read aloud, incredulity in his voice. "A proposal by Representative Thomas. I'm afraid this proposal is impermissible as it would conflict with Hogwarts Charter, so we will not debate or vote on it." A stifled laughs could be heard from the audience that has arrived to watch the proceedings. Dean Thomas flushed red, and even Weasley shook his head.

"Okay, here is the next one. By Ronald Weasley, to allow a current headmaster unimpeded access to this body's lectern. I can't think of any rule or law that would conflict with this proposed legislation, so I now give the floor to representative Weasley."

"Thank you," Ronald started, slightly intimidated when every pair of eyes looked at him. "I think it is important to allow headmaster Dumbledore to offer us advice and wisdom whenever he feels like it. He is, after all, the headmaster and the leader of the light, we shall listen to him at least if we can't allow him to vote. Thank you."

Dumbledore perked up. He didn't know such legislation would be proposed, and he felt conflicted what to think about it. It would be great if it was passed, but he was pretty sure it wouldn't. And if it wouldn't, it would perhaps plant an idea in their minds that he was trying to manipulate them, thus making them far more suspicious, something that he didn't want. On the other hand, it was good to know that Weasley's block was favouring him, that meant that he would have a 'bridgehead' in the Council if nothing else.

"I must admit, I do not understand the reason for such legislation," Susan Bones stood. "While it is true that Headmaster Dumbledore might have a lot to offer, isn't it enough that, as per by-laws, we can always invite him and ask for his opinion on any issue? The only reason I can think of allowing an unlimited access to the lectern would be if the headmaster, with all due respect and not implying anything, wanted to obstruct our proceedings. Otherwise he can always ask the chairman, and I'm sure he will get the floor. Thank you."

This wasn't good, Dumbledore thought. If Susan Bones of all people thought about him trying to obstruct the Council, what would other, more conservative members think? He had to act fast. He quickly scribbled a note and send it to Diggory in the form of a paper plane.

"Speaking of which, I have just received a request from the headmaster. Headmaster, the floor is yours."

"Thank you, Chairman Diggory. Honoured representatives, I thank you for this proposal," he inclined his head toward the Weasley boy. "But Representative Bones is indeed correct, there is no need for such provisions. So while the decision is yours, I'd recommend that you repel it. Thank you." He left the lectern, immediately sending another message, this time to the youngest Weasley. He had to explain to him his reasoning, so the boy didn't feel offended.

"Thank you, headmaster. Is there anyone else willing to say something? I can't see anyone... Then we vote. As it is our first time, so to speak, I will now explain how this works. It's simple: I will ask who is for the proposal and who is against it. You need to raise your hand at the correct moment, at the same time touching your wand to the white or black stone in front of you. White is for the adoption of the proposal, and black is for rejection. Now, let us vote. Raise your hand and touch the white stone if you are for the adoption of this proposal, thank you. Now raise your hand and touch the black stone if you are for the rejection. Thank you. The proposal is rejected, with the count of seventeen to four votes. Do any of you feel like you need a brake, after the first vote, or can we continue?" Cedric looked around, and seeing that everybody looked fine, he continued.

"And now we have two more projects. We will start with the proposal from representatives Potter, Malfoy, Greengrass and Farley. If adopted, it would grant us immunity from prosecution of any kind related to any action we take that is done in our capacity as representatives. Obviously we are talking about disciplinary prosecution, as we can't grant ourselves any immunity from state law. I am not sure, however, if this is in compliance with the existing rules," Cedric frowned.

"Chairman Diggory, if I may?" Hadrian stood. "If you open the enclosed folder you will find a legal advice provided by mister Adrian Bowls, an attorney, that states it is in fact legal, provided that we do so in a correct manner. We can't grant ourselves total immunity; but we can create provisions that would make every appeal that we file automatically accepted, as long as the proposal today gets at least three quarters of votes."

"I see," Cedric was skimming the legal advice provided, finding that it, indeed, corroborated what Potter said. "Very well, then we will now discuss this proposal. Representative Potter, can I assume that you will be a speaker on behalf of this piece?"

"You may. Honourable representatives, while what I'm presenting today might sound revolutionary, I'd like to firstly say that it is not, in fact, anything new. This exact piece of legislation that we will soon vote on was already in place for almost five hundred years the last time the Council existed. It was first established to allow representatives unfettered ability to fulfil the judicial function of this body. Mainly, to be able to oppose teachers who unfairly treat students. If such piece was absent, what would stop a teacher from assigning detention to any member of this body who oppose his punishments? Another thing: with this legislation in place there is no danger that one or more of us, say, a certain inconvenient faction, will miss a vote because of detention assigned. While I'm certainly not implying anything, we all know that without this law, it is a possibility."

"But wouldn't it be better," Neville Longbottom stood, stuttering. "To vote on every case of a punishment so no abuse happens?"

"Imagine that a professor assigns a detention everyday. Would you like to convene and discuss the same thing so often?"

"I see your point. But won't this mechanism be abused?"

"That's why there is a fail-safe. If a teacher believes a punishment is necessary, they can ask this body to take a disciplinary action against a specific representative. According to the resolution, we could then warn such a member, take points from him, assign him a detention or even take away their immunity, temporarily or permanently. Also, remember how this is supposed to work - if you think that you deserve whatever punishment is dealt, you can simply accept it and not file an appeal."

"I have just received another request from professor Dumbledore. Headmaster, I'm sorry to say this, but as it is already getting late and we still have one more proposal, we might afford to give you only few minutes. The floor is yours."

"Thank you, Chairman Diggory. I'd like to ask you to repel this proposal. There is no need for such provisions; I guarantee that every member of our staff will treat you fairly as they have done so to date. Setting up such provisions will create a dangerous precedent and weaken the teachers' authority. Thank you."

"Thank you, headmaster. Can we vote? Perfect. I'd like to remind you all that for this proposal to pass, a majority of at least three quarters is necessary, so effectively at least sixteen members must be in favour of this proposal. If those of you who are for the adoption would raise your hand and touch the white stone? Thank you. Now for the rejection? Thank you. The results are as follows: For the proposal, seventeen votes. Against, four. The resolution is passed, congratulations, representative Potter.

I was thinking about adjourning this session, but as I can see the last proposal won't take much time, let's get this over with. Representative Chang would like us to ban the public from attending Council sessions. I'm afraid this is not possible, as the by-laws explicitly state that the public is not only allowed, but even encouraged to come. That would be all for today; if no judiciary session is called, our next meeting will convene in two weeks time, the exact date and time will be delivered to you at least a week in advance. Thank you, I declare this session of School Council concluded."

* * *

 **A/N3:** I've managed to find a willing soul to be my beta, so there is a possibility that soon all the previous chapters, this included (and all the future ones) will be reworked and corrected.


	6. Chapter 6: Third Year pt 2

"Albus, this has gone far enough, you need to stop this madness," McGonagall, in a bout of uncharacteristic rage, ranted. "How can we allow students to immune themselves against our punishments? How can we discipline them if they will declare any punishment we deal void? This is unacceptable, you need to do something!"

Dumbledore tiredly sighed. As soon as an official resolution of the School Council had been delivered to the staff and announced throughout the school, he received a constant stream of disgruntled teachers, all demanding that he do something about this law. Somehow they wouldn't accept that he had no power to do anything.

"I can't do anything, Minerva. I've tried to impress upon the students the importance of repelling this resolution, but they all but ignored me. The only hope is that the Board of Governors will convene and repeal this; I have already contacted them and asked for a meeting, but, to be honest, I don't have much hope that this will happen, I can't see them vote unanimously."

"What do we do, then?"

"We hope they have some common sense."

 **===#^#===**

 _Dear Madame Bones,_

 _I am writing to you in my capacity as_ _an heir_ _apparent of the Potter House. It has come to my attention that an oversight of the most serious kind might have occurred twelve years ago with one Sirius Orion Black. Mister Black, then heir apparent of House Black, and now Lord Black, has been accused of thirteen counts of murder and conspiracy to commit a murder,_ _b_ _ut, what is most_ _un_ _ordinary, Lord Black has not received a criminal trial. According to the law, it is illegal to hold a person imprisoned for more than_ _thirty days_ _without giving them a trial._

 _The Wizengamot Charter allows that an heir apparent of a noble house, provided that there is no Lord or Lady of_ _said_ _house, might invoke certain rights of the Lord of the House if it is necessary to uphold the rule of law. As it is, I demand that the trial for Lord Black be held as soon as possible, no later th_ _a_ _n in a month's time._

 _Wishing you a great day,_

 _Yours Faithfully,_

 _Hadrian Potter_

 _Heir Apparent to the House Potter_

 **===#^#===**

"Potter, I need to talk to you."

Hadrian scowled, seeing that it was Granger.

"What the hell do you want?"

"I told you. I need to talk to you."

"What about?"

"You'll see. Meet me in the lavatory, you know which one, in an hour. Be there."

 **#^#**

Hadrian entered the toilet cautiously, with a wand and a shield spell ready to cast. He vividly remembered how badly the last time he was here ended; he didn't want it repeated. This time, however, there was no red beam; instead, Granger stood next to a sink, impatient.

"So what do you want?" Hadrian asked, keeping what he perceived to be a safe distance from the girl.

"Do you remember the diary?" Granger asked in turn.

"What about it?"

"Do you want it?"

"Why would I want it?"

"Why do we use only questions?"

Hadrian paused, and then smirked. Indeed, they were.

"I don't know. Perhaps because we have many questions and not enough answers."

"..."

"..."

"Okay. So here's the thing. I need to get rid of this diary. While I can resist it possessing me, I can feel it changing me," Granger admitted. "I thought it was all me, but recently I wasn't touching the diary as often as earlier and I realized that I would never have done this ritual on my own. Don't get me wrong, I'm not regretting it, it's just that... I don't want it anymore. But it taught me a lot, and you are the only one that knows it's still intact. Do you want it, or should I destroy it?"

"And how would you go about destroying it?"

"Basilisk venom. I have a small vial."

Hadrian pondered this. Did he want to be taught by a diary, by _Tom_? Did he want to risk that it would try possessing him? On the other hand, could he allow it be destroyed? Would he allow it?

"Destroy it, I don't need it."

The girl nodded, as if she has expected this, and then took the vial of acidic green liquid.

"Stand back." She warned, and then emptied the vial on the book.

As soon as the first drop touched it, the book _shuddered_ , and emitted shrieks. A black cloud rose from it, getting bigger and bigger, and then exploded with a deafening roar, sending both students sprawling on the floor.

"This changes nothing between us." Hadrian said as they both stood up, and then quickly left.

 **===#^#===**

"We have met to decide the fate of George and Fred Weasley, accused of disruptive behavior and foul language in a potion's classroom by Professor Snape. They have been given a punishment of two weeks' detention each, and fifty points from Gryffindor, again, each. They decided to appeal, and are here today. Let it be noted that Professor Snape decided not to appear before this body, opting instead to threaten me personally with 'grave repercussions' should we nullify this punishment. Messrs Weasley, the floor is yours."

"Thank you! We know that we do not have a crystal reputation here in this fine school institution," one of them began.

"But this time we are not guilty, what happened on that day was an unfortunate accident. You see," the second one continued, pausing just in time for the first one to continue.

"It was normal double Potions period. We were brewing a Yorkshire Potion, you know, the one that requires a powdered rats' tails." And so it continued, each twin saying a sentence or two, letting the other pick the story up.

"On that day we were in an unusual hurry, because we had some things that needed our attention immediately after the class, so we made a mistake..."

"...and used mice tails instead. As some of you know..."

"The result of such action is an explosion."

"So that's how we received the punishment for the disruptive behaviour..."

"Enough," Hadrian called, clearly annoyed. "Are you trying to make a mockery of this Council or what? I want one of you to tell us the whole story, if I wanted to watch a tennis match, I'd have gone back to muggle world." The twins looked at him with bafflement. Usually people were slightly annoyed at their twin-speech, but also amused; it was a rare person who demanded that they stop. Still, as Hadrian was one of the people that could decide their fate, they acquiesced.

"We protested that it is not fair. We didn't use any foul language, we were polite and never even raised our voices. But you know how Professor Snape is, the only result of our protest was another week of detention and loss of even more points." One of the twins finished the tale, looking earnestly.

"Very well, thank you. Would anyone like to ask or say something?" Cedric looked around the hall.

"I do," Hermione Granger stood up. "Messrs Weasley, would you be willing to show us your memories of this incident?"

After just a short moment, in which the twins had what probably could be called a silent mind conversation, they nodded their consent.

"Good," Granger continued. "Then please do so, there is a pensieve near the lectern."

They did what she asked, and soon the whole Council, and a good portion of other houses that came to observe the first trial could see that, indeed, the twins told the truth.

"Thank you. I believe it's time to vote, yes? I shall remind the rules. If at least sixteen of the Council members vote in your favour, your punishment will be nullified. If it will be fifteen, but no less than eleven, nothing changes for you. If it is ten or less, your punishment will be automatically changed to a month of detention, and a further fifty points each will be deducted. The voting process is the same as in other cases, except now you only need to touch the proper stone, without revealing your vote publicly. Please do so now; if you think the Weasleys should be cleared, press the white stone, if you believe they are guilty, press the black one."

Fred and George looked slightly nervous; they were wondering what would happen, and if it wasn't perhaps a huge mistake, coming here.

"Okay, the voting is done. The results are as follows: twenty in favour of clearing you, one against. Congratulations gentlemen, you are free men." Cedric finished, winking at them.

 **#^#**

"Potter, Greengrass, Malfoy, Flint, Farley, in my office, now!" roared the angriest Head of Slytherin they have ever seen.

 **#^#**

"What. The. Hell. Is. This. Supposed. To. Mean!" Snape hissed angrily, almost shaking. "When I punish someone I mean it. It's bad enough that this farce of a council is going on, but to learn that at least four of my own are openly against me? What do you have to say for yourselves?" He demanded furiously.

"We have nothing to say, sir. The vote was confidential," Gemma Farley said quietly, making Snape snarl.

"Detention! You will not undermine my position, is this understood? I will make your lives hell if you force me."

"With all due respect, sir," surprisingly it was Flint who decided to speak. "You cannot punish us, as we have an immunity. We are within our rights, we broke no rules, and we do not have to answer to you."

"How dare you! You insolent brat," Snape was loosing control. "You forgot your place, it seems. You will do as I say or else."

"Or else... what?" Hadrian decided he has had enough. "Just what exactly are you threatening us with, sir? You can hardly take any disciplinary action against us; you can't expel us; you can't besmirch us. So I ask again, what exactly are you going to do?"

 **#^#**

"What are you going to do, headmaster?" Snape demanded angrily. He was publicly humiliated, more so that his own house took part in this. He wouldn't leave it, he was on a warpath and they would all be sorry.

"I'm sorry Severus, but I can't do anything," Dumbledore said sadly. "You can try asking them to take away the immunity from your house, but I can honestly not see this happening. I've tried to be an advisor to them, but the power went to their heads way too quickly. They feel powerful and they won't listen. I tried to find a way to get rid of this whole Council, but it seems that, unless I sacrifice my magic or find two heirs to the founders, I can do nothing."

 **#^#**

"Potter, what is this supposed to be?" Severus Snape took an offered vial with distrust.

"A heart-calming draught, sir," Hadrian replied. He was, as always, one of the first to finish the assigned classwork.

"I see. This will be a zero, Potter, for cheating. Your third time this month. Keep this up and you will fail this subject and be out of Hogwarts by the end of the year," Snape said, a vengeful gleam in his eyes. So what if he couldn't punish them? He had other means to make their lives miserable.

 **#^#**

"Professor Severus Snape, it's good you could make it," Dowager Longbottom said officially. "You are here because we have received a series of complaints about your behaviour. While we have been assured by the headmaster that they were all exaggerated, we were forced to take an action by the resolution of the School Council. We have been provided with several memories of representatives to the Council, and it is obvious that you are abusing your power as a teacher. Is there anything you would like to say in your defence?"

Snape stood there fuming, silently. He knew that if he tried to say anything, he would probably give them all an epic dressing down, and, consequently, be out of Hogwarts the moment he finished.

"Very well. For your appalling behaviour we have no other choice but to launch a full investigation into your methods of teaching. You can expect our representative to visit your lessons, and we will recommence in a month to discuss our findings."

 **===#^#===**

"Welcome to the third session of the School Council. I have been asked by several teachers to allow them to speak in front of this body, but I have learned since that they all want to talk about the same thing, so I'd kindly ask you, professors, that you choose one person that will speak on your behalf. Once you are ready, please do let me know and I will allow it. But for now we will start with three petitions that have been submitted, all of them from the students. Firstly, there is a petition from the Gryffindor, to ban teaching about dark magic, no matter the form. I must admit, I'm not exactly sure if this proposal is legal; the way I see it, it's headmaster's exclusive prerogative to decide the curriculum. So, that is a no for now, I'll consult the legality of it later. The second petition comes from a different set of Gryffindor, to, and I quote, _sack Snape as soon as possible_."

Several laughs were heard throughout the hall, mostly from the audience, but an occasional representative could also be seen smirking.

"This petition must also be dismissed, as we have no power over the teachers. We have, however, petitioned the Board of Governors about Professor Snape, and I have it on a good authority that he is being investigated.

The last petition comes from a mixed group of students, they ask that we ban the usage of a word 'mudblood'. If a representative decides to sponsor this, and then we pass this resolution, it will be added to Hogwarts' list of punishable offences. Is there anyone willing to sponsor this proposal?"

Silent murmurs filled the hall, various factions' members discussing pros and cons. In the end, to the surprise of no one, Hermione Granger declared that she would be the sponsor.

"Very well. In this case we will discuss this proposal on our next session. Now, professors, have you decided who will be your speaker?"

"We have, and I will," said professor McGonagall, approaching the lectern. "I have come before you to ask that you limit yourselves, namely, decide that you will no longer rule if a punishment is to be upheld. From the moment this body was reformed, our authority has plummeted, as no one takes our punishments seriously, knowing they can always appeal, and, probably, be cleared. It is very harmful to a general discipline and school in the whole. I do understand why you feel that this right is important, and so do we, that's why we decided to suggest creating an institution, sort of an ombudsman, spokesperson of a student community, that could intervene if a student believes he has been treated unfairly. We propose that such person be professor Flitwick, as he is universally liked and respected. Thank you."

"Thank you Professor McGonagall. I open the discussion. Representative Zake, you might start." Diggory nodded towards the boy, seeing that he was willing to talk.

"Thank you, Chairman Diggory. While Professor McGonagall raised many valid points..."

 **#^#**

Cedric was just finishing reading the agreed Council's opinion, trying not to look at the teacher's faces. Some were resigned, some agitated, but two of them were standing out. Quirrell, who seemed to be amused by this whole situation, and Snape, who looked positively murderous.

"Conclusively, we must stress that it is not possible for us to waive this prerogative, as it is not only our right to perform a judiciary function, but also it is our duty. We do, however, encourage the staff to create a post of ombudsman, and will do everything in our power to help them in their duties."

 **===#^#===**

 _Heir Potter,_

 _According to your wishes, a trial has been scheduled for December the Seventeenth, at 9 AM. As you are not a witness, Lord of Wizengamot or otherwise involved, normally you wouldn't be allowed access to the trial. However, seeing that it is you on whose wishes we are acting, we are willing to give you a status of DMLE guest so that you can attend._

 _Please do let me know if you wish to do so as soon as you can, no later than by December the Fifth._

 _Yours faithfully,_

 _Amelia Bones_

 _Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement_

 **===#^#===**

"Come in, mister Potter," Dumbledore called in, as always before Hadrian could knock on the door. He knew that most people were baffled by the headmaster's seemingly prophetic abilities, but he was not; he was well aware of identification wards, and even that only if one completely disregarded the fact that it was a magical castle with multiple paintings, all reporting to Dumbledore, and a magical statue guarding the stairs to his office.

"Headmaster," Hadrian slightly bowed. "You asked to see me?"

"That I have, mister Potter. I've just learned that you have been asked to attend a yet unspecified trial in two weeks time as a special DMLE guest. May I inquire as to why is that so?"

"I'm afraid not, Headmaster, this is a personal matter." Hadrian answered, refusing to tell the man anything. Ever since he learned of the man's manipulations, he was wary. Just because it didn't look like he was currently manipulating anything or anyone didn't mean, that he wasn't doing so; the most effective manipulations were often the subtlest.

Dumbledore's face fell, and he sighed in disappointment.

"I wish that you put more trust in me, Hadrian. It's not a bad thing to trust adults, you know."

"Thank you for your advice Headmaster," the boy commented evenly. "Is that all? Can I go?"

"You may. On the set date, please meet me here at half past eight, we will travel using my floo. Have a good day mister Potter."

"You too, headmaster."

 _Finally, not overly familiar._

 **===#^#===**

"I call this court to order," Amelia Bones begun. "We have commenced here today to give a trial, as is our duty. A duty that has been neglected for over twelve years now..."

 **#^#**

Suddenly, Albus Dumbledore had a bad feeling.

 **#^#**

"...A Lord of this very body..."

 **#^#**

 _What the hell?_ Minister Fudge thought. How is such an oversight even possible?

 **#^#**

"...It has been brought to our attention by an heir apparent to one of the Noble Houses..."

 **#^#**

Dumbledore's eyes widened. _Harry?_

 **#^#**

"...Today we will decide the fate of one Sirius Orion Black."

It was pure chaos. Shouting, swearing, obscenities directed at Madame Bones, waving hands and even wands. When after two minutes the hall still didn't calm down, Madame Bones decided to intervene, and fired a loud bang, instantly demanding attention.

"Now, that you all know who is going to be tried, we need to appoint judges. _Ipso jure_ everyone that has been somehow involved in the case is ineligible, so the following are to go to the audience seats: Albus Dumbledore, Bartemius Crouch, Cornelius Fudge. If I'm not mistaken no other member of Wizengamot has been involved, but please let me know immediately if I missed someone."

Seeing that there were none, Madame Bones started drawing names from the huge goblet in the middle of the chamber, immediately reading them aloud. When twelve members were chosen, she got back to her place.

"Very well, we have twelve judges. I'll be acting as a prosecution; Lord Black was informed of his right to get a witness for defense, but denied, opting instead to take Veritaserum."

Murmurs were heard. It wasn't often that an accused decided to testify under veritaserum. The truth serum was uncontainable, and the one under its influence would speak the truth no matter what his intentions were and how hard he tried to lie. It would be much easier for the DMLE if its usage was mandatory, at least for a certain types of crimes, but alas, lords of Wizengamot were too afraid to be on the receiving end someday.

 **#^#**

"Did you kill Peter Petigrew?"

"Yes."

"Did you kill twelve muggles?"

"No."

"Elaborate."

"It was Peter. He used a blasting hex, trying to get away. He cut off his finger and wanted to escape in his animagus form, as a rat, but I was prepared and managed to hit him with a severing curse."

"Did you betray the Potters?"

"No."

"Elaborate."

"In the beginning, the plan was to make me a secret keeper but then we decided to switch secretly to someone less obvious. Security through obscurity, James called it. The Potters chose Pettigrew, and it was him that betrayed them."

"Was this the reason why you confronted Pettigrew?"

"Yes."

"How did you know about Pettigrew's animagus form?"

"We all had one. I was, am, a dog, James was a stag and Petigrew was a rat. We learnt it to keep our friend company, during his transformations."

"What are you talking about?"

"Remus Lupin has lycanthropy."

"Are you a Death Eater, or have you ever been one?"

"No, never."

 **#^#**

"Sirius Orion Black, the judges have agreed upon a verdict. You have been found guilty of murder of Peter Pettigrew. We do however recognize that this act has been committed in affect, and partially in self-defense. For this we sentence you to a one-year imprisonment in the low security Azkaban wing. You have also been found not guilty of all other charges. Given that you have stayed for over twelve years in Azkaban medium security wing, it is hereby declared that your sentence has been served in full. Moreover, we award you twelve thousand Galleons for every year spent in Azkaban wrongfully, totaling at one hundred and twenty-one thousand Galleons, and two thousand Galleons for the one year spent in higher security level than necessary. This case is hereby concluded."

 **===#^#===**

"Hadrian, what the hell?" Daphne asked, showing him the newest Daily Prophet. There, on the front page, a huge photo of Sirius Black was plastered, along with a title that read 'SIRIUS BLACK NOT GUILTY OF BETRAYAL' and 'BLACK SET FREE, COMPENSATED FOR UNLAWFUL IMPRISONMENT".

"Ah, that..." Hadrian looked sheepish.

"Yes, that. Why didn't you tell us? What did you know?"

"It was during the summer. I've been reading some history, and found a mention of him in one of the books. I knew, of course, that he was accused of betraying my family, but only then did I learn that he was thrown to Azkaban without any trial. I forgot about this for a few months, but then I was reading law books, and I've found that as an heir apparent I could demand that he be tried and I did." He shrugged, as if it was the most mundane thing in the world.

"He is your godfather, isn't he?" Daphne silently asked. "Are you planning on living with him?"

"I... I don't know," The boy admitted. "I haven't met him yet; I was told he is rather unstable after several years of Azkaban. Healers are supposed to let me know when it is safe to write to him; I doubt he will be good enough before summer though."

 **===#^#===**

"Honourable representatives, I stand before you with a proposal to petition the Board of Governors to take action to immediately terminate contract with our current Defense teacher, Remus Lupin. As you all know, it has been revealed that Mister Lupin is a werewolf, a dark magical creature capable of infecting others with his ailment. Having him in this school, in the vicinity of children is not only short-sighted, but also plainly stupid. Thank you," Lisa Turpin finished. Immediately, Ronald Weasley stood up.

"Plainly stupid is this proposal," he snarled. "Remus Lupin is the best teacher we've had so far, and he is as human as they get most of the month. His state might be compared to some women that are almost disabled few days a month," he pontificated, causing outraged cries from several young women present. "I was assured by Professor Dumbledore himself that Professor Lupin is not dangerous, as during full moons, he stays in his warded quarters under the influence of Wolfsbane Potion."

"The fact remains, he is classified as a five X creature and should be nowhere close to us," Cho Chang argued.

"Representative Chang, you make it sound as if it was concern for a safety speaking through you, while I believe it is just a simple prejudice," Gemma Farley stood. "It is true that a werewolf during the full moon is very dangerous. However, I cannot say the same for the werewolf under Wolfsbane potion, as it drastically lowers their blood thirst and aggression, at the same time strengthening their mental capabilities. Add a warded room, and it doesn't get much safer."

"So you say that a much more intelligent werewolf is something good?" Chang exclaimed.

"Yes," Gemma said exasperated. "A werewolf that isn't aggressive, with capability to think will know not to fight the wards, thus even further reducing any possibility of an incident."

"So you admit, that there is a possibility of an incident!"

 **#^#**

The debate about Remus Lupin was possibly the longest and most - verbally - violent to date. Finally, a vote has been called. At the last moment, Hadrian Potter decided to propose an amendment; those voting in favour of petitioning the board were also voting for supporting eventual vote of the board in favour of dismissing Lupin, while those against - in the event that Lupin's case was discussed either way, even without their petition - would also be voting to be against any action against the teacher.

 **#^#**

"The result of the vote is six for petitioning the board to terminate Lupin's contract and fifteen against. I know we were supposed to discuss the law on banning 'mudblood' word, but I think, after this lengthy debate, it's a good idea to adjourn and cool down, yes? Let us meet again on Friday."

 **#^#**

"I ask that you reconsider your decision," Dumbledore implored. "Remus Lupin is a great teacher, is universally respected and well liked by students and staff alike."

"Be that as it may, Dumbledore, we will now take a vote," Lord Malfoy dismissed the headmaster. "Who is in favour of terminating Remus Lupin's contract? Thank you. Who is against? Thank you. Let it be noted, that I have received," he wrinkled his nose as if he was keeping something smelly, "a resolution of the School Council. They remind us that they have two votes, and they cast them against dismissing Remus Lupin from his post. Taking this into consideration, the results are as follows: six votes against the proposal, seven in favour. Headmaster Dumbledore, you need to look for a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

 **#^#**

"Professor Quirrell, I was wondering if you had a minute..." Dumbledore's head appeared in Quirinus' fireplace.

 **===#^#===**

"Professor Dumbledore, you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, Hadrian. I understand you are aware that Sirius Black is your godfather."

Hadrian kept silent, as there was no question. Seeing that the boy wouldn't speak, headmaster continued.

"I understand you might want to go and live with him. However, I'm afraid, he is in no state to take care of you. He will have to undergo an extensive treatment, both physical and psychological before he is deemed fit to raise children, and it won't happen at least for another year. So you understand, Hadrian, that you must go back to your aunt, don't you?"

"Headmaster," Hadrian cautiously formulated his answer. "I believe we've been over this once. I still don't understand why you try to usurp yourself a power of deciding what I do and what I don't during the summer. I still have no intention of discussing my summer plans with you, and it won't change. Is there anything else, preferably related to my school work, that you would like to talk about?"

"Actually, there is. I was meaning to suggest it before, but it's still not too late. Why don't you join divination? I believe the workload added wouldn't be too great, and you would have another interesting subject to explore."

Hadrian stared. Just what the heck was this about?

"I've read a little about divination," he admitted reluctantly. "Most authors agree that a magical gift is required to properly use divination techniques. I doubt that I possess it."

"Well, there is no harm in trying, is there?" Dumbledore smiled invitingly.

"I suppose..." The boy trailed, trying to guess what could Dumbledore's agenda be.

"I suggest you visit a lesson or two, and then decide, how about this?"

"Very well, headmaster, I can do that. However, if you don't mind, I'd rather do so next year, as the exams are coming fast and I need all the time I can get to prepare."

"Of course," Dumbledore nodded, humming happily.

 **===#^#===**

"Hadrian?"

"Yes, Daphne?"

"I'd like to invite you over during the summer. You could spend some time with me and Trace, Blaise and Theo will also be visiting."

"Aha!" Hadrian explained triumphantly. "So you are looking for a tryst with me, I knew it!"

Daphne scowled.

"Actually never mind that, I made a mistake, you are not invited... you prat," she smirked, to which Hadrian pouted.

 **===#^#===**

"...And so, it is my great pleasure to congratulate the proud house of Slytherin for their remarkable victory. The cup is yours, and with it, all the privileges for a year. Enjoy the feast, sleep well, and have a great summer!" Dumbledore finished to a deafening applause.

 **===#^#===**

"Who are you writing to?" Draco asked curiously, seeing that Hadrian was going in the direction of Owlery with an envelope in hand.

"Always proper behaviour, huh Draco?" Hadrian laughed, making Draco flush. His curiosity was the one part of him that he couldn't tame, no matter how hard he tried. "It's a letter to my aunt and uncle."

"Aren't you going to see them tomorrow?"

"Hopefully not, I just wrote to let them know not to come."

"Oh, and where..."

"I think you already know too much," Hadrian smiled slightly, and shook his head. He couldn't tell him what he was about to do; Draco still wasn't his friend. A friendly acquaintance, yes, but not a real friend, yet.

 **===#^#===**

After saying goodbyes to his friends, Hadrian called for a cab.

 **#^#**

"Greetings, I'd like to talk with Griphook," Hadrian politely asked the teller. The goblin grumbled, but then took a bell and rang twice.

 **#^#**

"How can I help you, mister Potter?"

"Am I correct in my belief, that whatever I tell you, stays between me and the bank?"

"Absolutely."

"Good. Griphook, what would you suggest I do with a dragon egg?"

The only sign that the goblin was surprised was a slight widening of his eyes.

"Am I to understand it's not quite legal, as you are not an owner of Dragon's reserve?"

"...Perhaps."

"Then, I believe you'd best sell it to us. This way you can eliminate the middleman or two, as well as lessen the risk substantially."

"How much will you pay?"

Griphook scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"That would depend on the species. The most common Welsh Green would go for five thousand Galleons, and the rarest, almost extinct Red Australian Ridgeback would sell for over three hundred thousand."

"I see," Hadrian said evenly, doing his best to avoid showing emotions. Five thousand Galleons, this would be more than enough to live the summer, and few more to come, on his own. "I've got the egg with me. Would you like to see it?"

"Ah. I am not qualified enough. Please wait mister Potter, while I call for one of our dragon handlers." He wrote something on a piece of paper, which he then crumpled and threw in the fire. Not a minute later, a much bigger, obviously battle-hardened goblin entered the office.

"This is Gnohkelb. He will tell us what do you have."

Hadrian didn't loose anymore time, taking the egg out of his trunk. He put it on Griphook's desk, close to Gnohkelb, so that the big goblin could see it well. Gnohkelb scrutinized the egg.

"Norwegian Ridgeback," he grunted finally. "We can give you thirty-three thousand Galleons for this. Take it or leave it."

"Well, Mister Potter?"

"I accept."

 **===#^#===**

 **A/N:** And with this chapter we have the scene set, so to speak, and starting with the next one the flow will be less abrupt and chaotic, as we are finally reaching the main part of the story. From now on, I'll try to avoid writing monstrous 10k+ chapters, aiming at about 5k+ tops, if even that.

 **A/N2** : I'm not sure if you've already noticed, but you can follow my writing progress on my profile page.


	7. Chapter 7: Housing situation

**Previously:**

Ronald Weasley attacked Hadrian, in the train, with a potentially lethal spell; the boy threatened Hadrian with death in a misguided attempt at vengeance.

Hadrian finds out a forgotten piece of Hogwarts Charter by-laws, allowing students to form a School Council with vast power. The teachers and the Board of Governors are not happy, as they feel the new body is overpowered. The Minister of Magic, on the other hand, is eager to see students act, as it gives him a priceless possibility to observe his future political rivals It is decided that the representatives will get immunity against disciplinary action.

Hadrian, in his capacity as an heir to the noble house, petitioned Sirius Black's case to the DMLE, prompting them to give the man a long overdue trial. He was found guilty of killing Pettigrew, but it is ruled as self-defense and he is compensated for most of the time spent in Azkaban. Unfortunately, he is deemed unstable for now and must stay under Healers' care until he is mentally sane.

During the trial, it is revealed that Remus Lupin is a werewolf; the School Council debates this heatedly, finally deciding not to push for dismissal of the man. However, the Board of Governors decides to sack him nonetheless, and Dumbledore asks Quirrell to once again step in and teach DADA.

As the school year ends, Hadrian sold the dragon egg he had stolen from Hagrid and Gringotts buys it for 33K G.

* * *

"Hello Aunt Petunia," Hadrian bowed slightly, smiling. He was in a very good mood; earlier this day he managed to sell off the dragon egg that he had stolen from Hagrid several years ago, which made him quite well off, for a teenager at least. What he earned wouldn't let him live long life, but it would certainly go a long way towards making his summers enjoyable.

"You," Petunia greeted him with her usual warmth. "What are you waiting for? Get in," she stepped aside, letting him enter. As soon as he was in, she fired off several questions. "Where is your luggage? What have you been doing, it's almost evening, and why are you _smiling_?"

Hadrian's grin only got bigger, as he soaked the atmosphere, something that he wouldn't have to put up with ever again.

"I came here today only to tell you that I won't be spending this summer with you," he announced calmly.

"And where will you be?" his aunt sneered, obviously not impressed. "If you think we'll give you any money so that you can go on vacation, you are sorely mistaken."

Hadrian snorted.

"Obviously I don't think that, I know better. No, I just managed to secure a place to stay for myself, where and how you don't need to know. I only came to ask, that if any of..." Hadrian hesitated. "Any of _my kind_ come here asking about me, just tell them that I'm somewhere, I don't know, shopping, having a sleep-over, whatever, just fend them off and don't let them know I'm no longer staying here."

"And what's in it for us?" Petunia asked, obviously doubting his story.

"Really, aunt? Think," Hadrian said slightly arrogantly, making the woman bristle. "If the _freaks_ find out I'm not living with you, they will do everything in their power to _rectify_ this situation, and I'll be back with you in no time. Which," he pointed his finger at her, "is not something that either of us want. Do we have a deal?"

After just a minute of deliberation, Petunia nodded her head resolutely.

"We do. But what if they come and insist that they see you?"

"I'll call you in a few days to let you know of my phone number. If anything like this happens, just call me and I will come to show myself to them."

The aunt and nephew stood there, in the entryway of Dursley's home, silently looking at each other. Petunia looked like she wanted to say something, but couldn't. Finally, she managed.

"Is this the farewell? Or are you coming next year?"

"Not if I can help it," Hadrian answered evenly. "If everything goes as I'd like it to, then yes, this is a farewell." Petunia nodded, not sure what else to say. Eventually, Hadrian broke the silence. "Fine, I believe that's about it. Expect my call soon. Be well Aunt Petunia," he said, turning around before leaving the house.

He wasn't even off the yard when Petunia called after him. Curiously, Hadrian stopped and waited for his aunt to catch up to him.

"Wait," Petunia said, slightly out of breath. "I've just realized, the letter! When we got you, there was a letter. That man, Dumbledore, he's written that there is a protection on this house, that stays true as long as you live here. Does it mean that it will be gone with you?"

"Probably," Hadrian acknowledged. "If it is somehow tied to me, then yes, it will be gone the moment I stop calling this place home, or something similar, I'm not exactly sure how this particular ward works," he started walking again.

"But will we be safe?" Petunia asked frantically. It started dawning on her that the boy was not only a curse, but also a mean to their safety.

"Don't know, don't care," Hadrian shrugged, and left, leaving his aunt worried on a perfect front lawn of her no less than perfect house.

 **#^#**

Meanwhile, a small trinket in Dumbledore's office squeaked faintly and then stopped working with a puff of white smoke. Perhaps, if the headmaster himself was in the office at this time he would have noticed, but as it just happened, he was in Wizengamot, trying to feel out a possible ally to his side. Thus, the trinket, hidden between a dozen similar ones, would go unnoticed for a very long time.

 **#^#**

"Excuse me," Hadrian called to the barkeeper. Tom, he remembered it was his name. "Tom, do you have rooms here that I could rent?"

Tom looked at Hadrian and frowned.

"You alone? Where are your parents?"

"Eh, they are muggles, they gave me money and allowed me to stay here for few days while they are running some errands. I'm meeting my friends here the day after tomorrow."

Tom looked searchingly at the innocently smiling boy. Before Hadrian came here, he had taken care of his looks. Now he was a blond, short-haired boy with no scar visible thanks to some quick make-up. He was also wearing brown contact lenses; shortly after leaving the Dursleys he went to optometrist and got a prescription. Fortunately, his defect wasn't anything complicated and he could buy a set of monthly contact lenses on-site. This way he was quite certain that he wouldn't be recognized. It wouldn't do to be found by anyone that could notify Dumbledore; that man had definitely too much of an interest in his private life and he wouldn't put it past him to try and force him back to Dursleys.

"I'm sorry," Tom finally said, looking genuinely apologetic. I can't offer you any room, they're all full, but I think you should try to go to Seventh Inn on the Seventh Street," he advised.

Hadrian blinked.

"And where is Seventh Street?"

"Oh," Tom seemed to realize something. "I forgot you are muggle-born. You see, Diagon Alley isn't the only magical street here. There are several others, interconnecting. The most famous, or rather, infamous, is Knockturn Alley, but there is also Danann Path, Seventh Street and the Silver Promenade. There is quite decent inn on Seventh Street. You just need to walk to Gringotts, and promptly before the stairs, turn right. It's well marked, you shouldn't get lost."

"Thank you," Hadrian said politely and left.

Finding Seventh Street wasn't difficult indeed. Hadrian wondered how could he miss it all those previous times he was visiting Gringotts; still, he was here now and that was the only thing that mattered. He quickly found the Seventh Inn and entered. He didn't know if it was because Tom let them know or they had more lax policy, but he was asked no questions before being given the key.

 **#^#**

The room was adequate. Nothing luxurious, but he had everything that he would need. A single bed, desk, chair, wardrobe, en-suite bathroom with a shower. Regardless, he had already decided that he wouldn't be staying long, few days tops. He would visit the goblins the next day and ask if there were any properties he could use or rent.

He threw himself on the bed, idly playing with the thought of going out and exploring those new - to him - streets, but eventually he decided to call it a day.

 **#^#**

The Seventh Inn wasn't the most reliable place, Hadrian quickly found. As soon as a morning came, there was a loud knocking on his door. Hadrian was just finishing his morning routine, so he only had to re-apply his make-up and put on a shirt before answering.

"Yes?" He cautiously opened the door, a wand in his hand.

"Who are you?" A man wearing crimson robes demanded rudely.

"Excuse me?"

"Who are you? You never told the staff when moving in and you are alone, a kid. Where are your parents?"

Hadrian looked at the man incredulously, before slamming the door in his face and locking it. The last thing he wanted to do was explaining himself to some doorman. His stay was already paid in advance for three days, something he was beginning to regret if this behaviour was something that he could expect from the staff here.

He finished his preparations, donned his robes and decided that he might as well go to Gringotts. Just for convenience sake, to avoid nosy doorkeepers, he decided to use his invisibility cloak.

 **#^#**

"Good morning, I'd like to talk to Griphook," Hadrian greeted the teller. Just as always, the creature behind the desk grunted something and rang the bell twice. _Must be magic_ , Hadrian surmised smartly. With the amount of goblins working in the bank it was highly improbable that each one had it's own ringing code assigned, even more so as the bell, whether used by 'his' teller or some other one, was always rung twice.

Soon, a familiar goblin appeared and took Hadrian to the office.

"What can I do for you today, Mister Potter?"

"I was wondering, Griphook, is there any property that my family holds that I could access now?"

Griphook wordlessly summoned thick ledger and started looking for something. Finally, he closed it, and looked at Hadrian.

"I'm afraid not," he asserted. "There are two intact properties belonging to Potter family, but they will only be accessible once you are fully emancipated."

Hadrian nodded. Even if he hoped for something else, he expected this.

"In that case, I'd like to ask for your help in renting a flat for myself. I'm minor, so there is no way anyone would agree to rent me one, but I'm quite sure you can help me for a fee."

Griphook grinned, showing his sharp teeths.

"Indeed we can, Mister Potter. This won't be cheap, but it's a one-time fee, and you have enough money. Is there any place you'd like?"

"No. Actually I was hoping that maybe you might have a catalogue or something available."

"Are you interested in muggle or wizarding properties?"

"Umm, muggle ones. I can't do magic during the summer, so I'll welcome all muggle appliances."

Griphook smirked.

"You know mister Potter, there are wards," he mysteriously declared. "This would cost you another thousand Galleons, but you could then use your magic as long as you were inside."

Hadrian's eyes widened. He thought he was quite competent for his age, knowing a lot about different applications of runes and wards, even blood wards, but he had never heard of a ward allowing undetected use of magic.

"How is that possible?"

"Goblin magic," Griphook answered, still smirking.

"Will I be able to afford it? I mean, I know I've got thirty-three thousands for the egg, and then some in my trust vault, but If I rent a flat this will be a constant drain on my money for a few years to come..." he trailed, suddenly unsure. Just how much was wizarding money worth in the mundane world? He never bothered to check; he just assumed that, since the wizarding money was still made of precious metals, it was worth a lot.

"Easily, Mister Potter. One Galleon is worth quite a lot muggle money. You have more than enough to pay the rent upfront for several years and still not to worry about buying your school essentials."

"What do you mean, quite a lot?" Hadrian asked, curious. "I know that there is a gold standard in the wizarding world, but what are the exchange rates?"

"Depends. If a total stranger came to us trying to exchange his muggle money to Galleons, he would have to pay few hundred pounds for one Galleon. However, because of a 1678 treaty," his face soured, "we have to offer much better rates for wizards and the families of wizards. This way muggle-borns can afford the cost of living in our world until they come of age and start earning their own Galleons. For them, the exchange rate is five pounds per one galleon. You, on the other hand, since you are selling gold for pounds, will get 50 pounds per Galleon."

Hadrian calculated quickly the money he owned, and inhaled sharply.

"Yes, Mister Potter, you can certainly afford it. Now, shall we have a look at the catalogue of flats?"

 **#^#**

"This one looks nice. The price-tag is also nice," Hadrian mused. He was just looking at a one bedroom apartment in Westminster area. It looked spacious, clean and modern, but cost almost five hundred pounds a week.

"That it is. Remember though, Mister Potter, that you have more than enough to afford it. You want it for, what, three, four years? Then the total cost would be hundred and sixty pounds shy of one hundred thousand, but you need to divide it by fifty - you will only need to pay two thousand Galleons for this plus our fees, obviously. If you decide to rent this place, you will have to pay at least three thousand galleons; more if you want us to add wards."

"I think I'll take it. What wards can you offer?"

"The basic protection wards set, including anti-apparition, anti-portkey and proximity wards are five hundred Galleons. An advanced set of wards, including protego maxima, fianto duri and repello inimicum will set you back a thousand Galleons. If you want your place to be unplottable, it's another two point five thousand G's, and if you'd like it to be under Fidelius, well, you don't have enough money for that and, of course, there is this magic masking ward we've talked about earlier."

Hadrian looked at Griphook, calculating. Finally, having considered everything to the best of his abilities, he spoke.

"I'll have this flat. Add a set of basic and advanced wards, magic-masking ward and make it unplottable. This will be, what, seven thousand, eight?"

"Eight thousand, yes."

Trying desperately not to think that he was just about to spend almost four hundred thousand pounds, Hadrian put his signature on the provided document.

 **#^#**

As soon as Hadrian returned to his room in the Seventh' Inn, he was jumped by the anxious porter.

"You, boy, wait, I want you...!"

"Erm, no, I don't swing that way," Hadrian answered and quickly locked the door, leaving the dumbfounded doorman behind.

He was glad that his housing situation was taken care of. It was getting irritating, staying at this inn; if the wizards had some rating service for the hotels he would certainly leave a bad review. Fortunately, it would only be one more night here, and then he could move to his own flat. Well, almost own - but the way he saw it, as soon as it was paid in advance for four years and made unplottable, it would be as good as his own for that time.

Hadrian considered for a moment outright buying his own place, with the exchange rate he could afford it. He was quickly dissuaded by the goblin though; as a minor, any and all purchases above a thousand Galleons would require his guardian's approval. Paying, even larger sums, for the services was a legal loophole, and the only way he could get his own place.

He undressed, showered and went to the bed hoping against the hope that he would not be harassed next morning.

 **#^#**

He wasn't wrong. At about the same time as the previous day, an intense knocking filled his room. Muttering obscenities, Hadrian rose from doing his push-ups and violently threw the door open.

"What?!" he snarled, causing two men on the other side of the door gape at him. This time he didn't bother dressing up, so the men saw him only in his training shorts and undershirt, an attire most wizards would consider to be a state of undress, a conservative society that it was. "Well?" He demanded, seeing them at a loss for words. When none of them reacted quickly enough, he slammed the door and headed for the shower, ignoring the renewed knocking.

 **#^#**

"The way I see it," Hadrian said casually, leaning on the counter, "you are harassing me. I've paid upfront for three nights, yet you constantly bother me in my apartment. I've had enough, and I'm moving out. You will pay me back for one night, yes?"

The receptionist spluttered.

"We wanted to talk to you! You avoided us!" he accused.

"That I did," Hadrian admitted, not bothered in the slightest. "I paid, and had no desire to talk to any of you. So, yeah, I did avoid you. Now, what about my money?"

"We need to know your data, to register you! I don't know who allowed you in without collecting them first, but..."

"You did," Hadrian interrupted him. "And I don't care what you need now. What matters is, will you give me my money back or should I leave and send my lawyer after you?"

"I can't give you your money if you don't tell me who are you, you can't just..."

"So be it," Hadrian dismissed him and left the inn, leaving the poor receptionist alone.

 **#^#**

His new flat was only few tube stops from the Diagon Alley, so it only took about ten minutes to reach it. As he approached it he was quickly intercepted by Griphook, disguised as an older man in casual muggle attire.

"Mister Potter, follow me please. We have everything set up, we only need to key you in the wards now."

"Okay, was there any problems?"

"None at all, you have a fine apartment all to yourself, Mister Potter. All the wards are functioning and we have also erected a basic notice-me-not localised ward on the door so that no one will bother you. The magic-concealing ward had to be setup on the whole building as it is a dome-shaped with a minimum area requirements, so you can do magic whenever you are inside, and theoretically also outside for a few feets in all directions, but as you can't tell where is the threshold of the ward I wouldn't recommend it."

"Fine, casting only inside. How do you key me in?" Hadrian asked, seeing that they arrived in front of his door.

"Why, Mister Potter, of course with your blood," Griphook bared his teeth in anticipation. Honestly, if Hadrian didn't know better, he would assume the little buggers were vampiric species, with their fondness of blood. He sighed and raised his hands, waiting for the blade and instructions.

"The wards, as of now, are cast but not founded. To bind them to you, you need to feel them. It won't be hard - fianto duri is almost physical, it won't let you through, so you need only walk forward till you can't. Then simply prickle your finger and smear it against the ward. Once it recognizes you, it will momentarily flash brightly. There are eight wards in total, so you need to repeat it this many times."

"Eight?" Hadrian frowned. "I thought that there should be seven? Not counting the magic-concealing outside?"

"Since this is muggle neighbourhood, we've also added one that would slow down the electricity decay, so you can use magic in here. It's not foolproof, but if you don't hex the appliances and limit heavy magic, it should last several years."

"And how much did this cost me?"

"Ah, this was included in our fee. If you were interested in a wizarding estate, our fee would be lower... But you wouldn't be able to afford a similarly comfy place."

 **#^#**

Once Hadrian was done, Griphook shook his hand and left, allowing Hadrian to make himself comfortable. The flat was as spacious and modern as the catalogue promised. Hadrian quickly fell in love; while he wasn't sleeping in a cupboard but a normal bedroom at the Dursleys, it certainly couldn't compare to what he had now. His own room in Slytherin was also rather comfy, but he didn't want to overdo it; this was his workplace, after all. But here... Here he would spend his summers, so a little luxury was desirable.

 **#^#**

"Hello?"

"Aunt Petunia? You still have this feature that shows you the number calling, right? This is my number, just call me if _you know what_."

"Oh, it's you. Actually, a letter came for you. Obviously from some freaks, it has ten stamps on it," Hadrian could almost see her disgusted face. "Will you pick it up or should I throw it away?"

"Do you know who is it from?"

"There is a name scribbled here. Weasy? Wesly?"

"Weasley?"

"Yes, this is it."

"..."

"Hello?"

"I'm here. Okay, I'll pick it up sometime next week."

 **#^#**

During the next several days, Hadrian fell into an easy routine. He would wake up early and do some physical exercises. Some days it would be a morning jog, sometimes it would be push-ups or squats. He knew that his building had a small private gym with the weights, but he wasn't there yet; perhaps some time soon. After his morning exercises, Hadrian would shower, do some of his homework and then have a free study session. On his first free day - as in, no keying into wards, no avoiding overzealous staff, no looking for a flat - he visited the public library and made copies of several books.

When he was done, and it wasn't dark yet, he would wander off exploring London or one of the magical alleys. So far he found that the most interesting was the Danann Path. Named after Danann, the goddess of the Fae, was filled with shops selling rare ingredients, books and scrolls. Unfortunately, most of them were also appropriately priced, usually exceeding Hadrian's budget for the summer.

Hadrian would finish the day with another long shower and meditation exercises; he was working hard on his occlumency.

 **#^#**

Finally, the day came that he could no longer put off going to collect the letter. As was his custom now, he went for a jog, showered, took some pocket money in pounds and set off on this little trip. He considered calling a cab, but after seeing that the train ride would only take 35 minutes, he decided to take it.

He walked the rest of the way, feeling like taking the stroll in a good weather. This certainly didn't have anything to do with trying to postpone meeting his relatives. Certainly.

"Uncle Vernon," He greeted the walrus of a man. "I heard that there is a letter for me."

"There is," Dursley grunted, handing it to him and promptly closing the door. "Goodbye."

Well, it seemed the Dursleys were as keen on meeting him as he was, thank Merlin for small miracles.

 **#^#**

Hadrian fiddled with the envelope for a moment, wondering what could be inside and if he should open it. For all he knew it could be an assassination attempt by the youngest Weasley, something he wouldn't put past Ronald. He appeared calm and composed, but Hadrian saw the looks he gave him when he thought Hadrian was not watching. The Potter heir was well aware that Ronald didn't gave up his misguided revenge; he was biding his time.

Eventually, after casting several diagnostic charms on the letter, he felt reasonably safe that there was only a piece of paper inside, so he carefully tore the envelope and picked the letter.

 _Dear Mister Potter,_

 _My name is Arthur Weasley. We haven't met properly before, but I wanted to thank you for your attempt at rescuing my daughter, Ginny, in circumstances that most adults would find themselves_ _overwhelmed_ _. While my heart mourns for my daughter, I also feel deep gratitude for what you did, and would like to meet you personally to say_ _my thanks_ _._

 _It just so happens that I have received several top class tickets to the Quidditch World Cup finals which will be held in England. I'd like to extend an invitation to both you and Hermione Granger, to join my family on this day._

 _Please do let me know of your decision no later th_ _a_ _n by the end of July._

 _Yours Faithfully,_

 _Arthur Weasley_

 _Head of House Weasley_

* * *

 **A/N:** Welcome to the main story :-) As promised, I've included quick "previously" note at the beginning. This won't be a thing most of the time, only if I deem a chapter potentially unreadable by some (i.e. Boring or triggering) :-)

 **A/N2:** This chapter (and the previous one) has been betaed by haphne24, huge thanks :)

 **A/N** **3** **:** I thought I would give you an overview of how, in my HP AU, money works. It's not overly convoluted, but in my experience it is easier to explain mechanisms using points, so here it goes :)

1\. The wizarding world uses gold standard, in its most literal form: all the money is made of precious metals, gold, silver and bronze.

2\. Wizarding economy is much smaller, obviously, than mundane one. It is also, mostly, separated, with one small exception.

3\. Because Galleons are made of gold, and the coins are bigger than mundane pounds (somewhere I've found a comparison claiming them to be slightly bigger than the commemorative five pound coin), the worth of the gold used to make them is much bigger in muggle world than wizards value them in their system.

4\. Because of this, a treaty had been made sometime in 17th century to force the goblins to give better rates to muggleborns, so that they can afford buying wizarding money. The "discount" is tremendous - normally the coin would be worth hundreds of pounds, but the goblins sell them for five pounds.

5\. On the other hand, if one were to sell galleons and buy pounds from Gringotts, they would get 50 GBP for every gold coin. You might ask: is the Gringotts a charity? Well, not exactly.

6\. Because here comes this small overlap of the economics. Gringotts is active on global markets, selling gold for normal, mundane market prices, thus making profit. (btw: obviously not the only area of profit for the bank, as they are providing various - costly, as presented in this chapter - services for wizards). Also, obviously, they keep track of the sales and enforce some limits to prevent abuse (as in - a muggleborn comes with 5GBP, buys 1G, sells it for 50GBP, buys 10G…).

7\. Because of the exchange rates, almost every wizard is pretty rich by muggle standards. However, as most never lower themselves to live in mundane world, they don't even realise that. That's the reason why Hadrian could pretty easily afford rent in a high-end apartment in the center of London; if he chose to find a flat in a wizarding district instead, for example somewhere on a Silver Promenade, he wouldn't be able to afford it for more than a year, or two if he lowered his expectations regarding housing standards.


	8. Chapter 8: Teasing

Hadrian was sitting in his flat, thinking about the invitation he received. It was surprising, to say the least, as it showed that the man - Arthur Weasley - was under impression that he was down there in the chamber trying to save his daughter, which, admittedly, wasn't true at all. If it was his choice, he wouldn't be going anywhere near the basilisk. Reading the invitation caused him to revisit memories that he had carefully locked away in a well protected part of his mind.

 **===#^#===**

"It's your turn now," Hermione called, sounding tired. She wasn't covering herself anymore; it seemed that the ritual was far too exhausting to care for her virtue. "You go in on this side of the circle, while I go out on the other. Don't try anything stupid. When I'm out, I will levitate the sacrifices."

Hadrian sighed. He couldn't see any other way out of this mess; he would have to dirty his hands. He slowly undressed, hesitating only for a second before taking his pants off. Granger wasn't even looking at him, seemingly too tired after the ritual. Perhaps he could, after all, get out of this mess somehow? With her being so exhausted, she could easily make a mistake that he could capitalize on. Maybe she would step out of the circle now and he could subdue her? Or he could...

"Potter," she snapped, losing patience. "I'm tired physically, but magically I've never been more powerful, annoy me at your peril."

Hadrian sighed, finished undressing and approached the circle on the opposite site of where Granger was. There would be no salvation, it seemed.

Two twelve-year-olds simultaneously entered and left the circle respectively. As soon as Hadrian was inside, he felt as if he was encapsulated in an impenetrable bubble, cutting off all sounds, smells and, generally, situational awareness.

He slowly made his way to the centre, marked with Ginny's blood and a discarded knife. He looked blankly at it, remembering the kind, albeit slightly shy, red-headed girl that approached him several months back. He didn't feel fond of her, but to see her go like this was disconcerting. A _thud_ sounded, following Lockhart's body being deposited in front of him. Contrary to Hadrian, Lockhart wasn't naked - thankfully. Somehow, hearing the impatient clearing of the throat, even through the bubble, Hadrian steeled himself and started chanting the memorised words of the ritual. When he was done, he picked the dagger and hesitated before finalising the deed.

 **#^#**

"I know that we are currently allies and so on, but... just be aware that for what you did to me today, for taking a choice away from me, for essentially blackmailing me to kill, I will someday kill you."

"I know you will try."

 **===#^#===**

 _Granger would be there. The question is, should I?_ He had still some time to ponder it, so for now he decided to leave it, and eat a dinner instead.

 _ **#^#**_

Hadrian was finishing his morning workout, this time doing a hundred push-ups, when he heard a knock on his flat's window. He approached and promptly opened it, allowing a medium-sized owl inside. It extended its leg, showing him a letter delivery. Hadrian cocked his head to the side; he wasn't expecting anything. Perhaps, it was from his friends?

He let the owl out, making sure it wasn't thirsty or hungry beforehand, and proceeded to cast all detection spells known to him on the innocently looking envelope. When he was satisfied, he opened it and read.

 _Hadrian,_

 _As promised, here I am, writing to invite you over for a few days. You can come at any time, just let me know in advance, a day will do_ _a_ _nd no, this doesn't mean you can postpone it as much as you want; I expect you to be here soon._

 _Daphne_

 **#^#**

" _Depulso_ ," Hadrian whispered. A wave of invisible force raced through the room and destroyed several glass panes, a reinforced glass pane included, which made Hadrian smile. He has been trying to refine his magic, so that instead of sending it in all directions, it was more focused and packed more punch. He was always fairly powerful, even more so with the ritual he had undergone, so he didn't have to focus too much on most common day-to-day spells, as he could always push more power, thus making up for the lack of precision. Precision, however, was very important in magical combat. A difference between a good dueller and a bad one wasn't in the number of spells they knew, but rather, how effectively they could use them and he wanted to be as good as possible.

He learned a lot of magic on his own. Academically speaking, he was probably on par with sixth years, and his skill with offensive magic was probably even beyond that. Mostly, he tried to keep himself to generally accepted branches of magic, mainly because of fear what would happen if he got accustomed to using questionable dark or grey magic and then had to use it in public. That didn't mean he shied away from it, no; in fact he already learned dozens of grey and dark spells, he just didn't use them often, keeping them as a last resort. One of the books he copied from the library mentioned glass panes and depulso spell as a good way of honing one's magic. Given the nature of this very spell, an expanding force wave, it was a great litmus paper of how accurate one could be. At first, Hadrian was able to destroy at most two consecutive glass panes - and a lot of items nearby. Now, after couple weeks of training he could smash ten consecutive glass panes, including one reinforced one, something that he was especially proud of himself for.

Three days passed since he recovered the invitation for the World Cup from Dursleys. During those three days, he thought hard of all the possibilities. What should he do? Accept? Deny? Pretend he never got it? Finally though, he settled on a plan.

He would meet with Mister Weasley and watch the final match, but he wouldn't be staying with them. He had a very comfortable flat now, with an even more comfortable bed, and he was not willing to trade it for lying in a tent or a sleeping bag, especially given that he would be essentially surrounded by his enemies then. Speaking of which, he would have to be careful. While he didn't expect Weasley to attack him outright next to his father, the boy was an unknown, so he couldn't dismiss any possibility. He would have to be on his guard all the time and hope for the best. As for Granger... She didn't seem to be overly eager to hurt him, not physically at least. The debacle with the chamber proved, though, that she was ruthless, and would do pretty much everything to further her own goals, so he would have to keep an eye out on her as well. And who knows, maybe, just maybe, an opportunity would present itself to finish her and deliver on the promise he had made then... And just in case something went wrong, he would also be carrying a special, goblin-made emergency portkey.

Having thought this all through, Hadrian sent a short reply confirming that he would be honoured to spend time with the Weasleys. _Oh so honoured_ , he thought.

 **===#^#===**

"Good afternoon gentlemen," a young, impeccably dressed energetic man entered the Seventh Inn, immediately drawing all the attention to himself. "I would like to speak to a manager, please," he announced grandly.

"Why do you need to talk to a manager, sir?" A receptionist carefully asked. "If you might just tell me, perhaps I'll be able to help you."

"I'm afraid that's not possible," the newcomer denied with a smile. "I'm an attorney, you see, here in a business matter. So if you could, please call for your boss."

It didn't take long for an older looking man to appear. He confidently approached the attorney and extended his hand.

"Name is Roger Youngsmith, and I'm the owner of this inn. Well met, mister...?"

"Bowls, Adrian Bowls. I'm an attorney, here on behalf of my client who, as he believes, was wronged by this fine institution of yours."

"Wronged? I don't understand," Roger Youngsmith shrugged helplessly. "Perhaps, if we could adjourn to my office? Please, follow me."

"Now, Mister Bowls," the owner started, once they comfortably sat in his office. "How exactly can I help you?"

"A few days ago, a young client rented a room here, and then, even though he paid in advance, he was harassed by your staff for unknown reasons. Your staff was so annoying, that eventually the client, who happens to be also my client, decided to leave. Your employee denied returning him his money, and so, here I am." Attorney Bowls finished his short tale.

"Young client? You mean a boy? I've heard about it. My receptionist told me he refused to give his name or any contact info, which is what we require to rent a room. My staff was just trying to collect it," Youngsmith explained.

"Yet, he was given a key without being asked for anything else, and only later did your staff remember about the data, and proceeded to harass him, which is unacceptable."

"Mister Bowls, surely you see that it was within our rights to demand that our rules be followed by the guests?"

"Absolutely, Mister Youngsmith. However, you cannot harass your guests. It is, indeed, within your rights to demand that a contact info is provided prior to renting the room, but once the key is handed out, it essentially means that all requirements were met."

"I guess," the owner grudgingly admitted. "So what it is that you want?"

"My client would like to get a refund; moreover, I suppose it's only fair that you compensate him somehow. I believe a total of double the amount initially paid would be acceptable."

"Come now Mister Bowls, the boy left only with one more night paid in advance, surely the refund for one night, say, doubled, will be enough?"

"I'm afraid it won't," Adrian smiled. "The time he spent here was extremely important to him, as he had urgent matters to attend to. Your staff behaviour made it infinitely more difficult."

The inn's owner looked at him.

"You will forgive me, Mister Bowls, if I express my doubt as to what kind of urgent business could a teenaged boy have," he said slowly. "Come to think of it, why was he alone? We shouldn't have let him in anyway, perhaps even calling aurors was an option."

"Perhaps it was, perhaps it wasn't," Adrian answered amused. "What was an option is unimportant, for we are discussing what is an option now. By the way, there is no law preventing kids aged eleven or over from renting rooms and generally being on their own."

Roger Youngsmith sighed. He knew the battle was lost the moment this man introduced himself as an attorney. A man of many talents he could be, but law was never one of them. Seeing that the man stubbornly refused to budge even slightly, he decided it wasn't worth his time.

"Fine, Mister Bowls. Does your client have any vault, or would you prefer I give the money to you?"

"Vault 854. Here is the fund transfer blanket, if you could just..."

"Yes, yes," the owner impatiently took the pen and signed where necessary. "Have a good day Mister Bowls."

"You too, Mister Youngsmith."

 **===#^#===**

"Mister Weasley, a pleasure to meet you, sir," Hadrian greeted his host politely, making sure to firmly shake his hand.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mister Potter, I'm very happy you could make it. Let me introduce you to my family," the man started, and pointed at the now arriving red-headed boys. "This is my oldest son and heir, William, or Bill as we all call him. To his right is my second-born, Charlie. Then there are twins, Fred and George, whom I'm sure you must have at least heard of," the twins grinned and waved at him. "And you know of course Ronald and Hermione, who is our guest and is staying with us. Are you sure you won't be needing a place to sleep? There is plenty of space, I assure you, it's a big tent," he smiled.

"Thank you Mister Weasley, but I really need to go back to my family today, I promised," Hadrian lied smoothly. The man nodded, as if expecting no less. And he probably was, the Weasleys were firmly in Dumbledore's pocket after all.

"Ah, of course," the man easily agreed. "We wouldn't want to worry your family. Mister Potter, why don't you go with Ron and Hermione to reacquaint after those few weeks of summer, while I finish setting our camp up? And then, I'd like to talk to the two of you, now that we are all here," he proposed, nodding at Hadrian and Hermione.

 **#^#**

The trio sat in Hermione's room, positioned strategically as far away from each other as possible. It was painfully clear that there were no warm feelings between any of them, just as there have been no words spoken ever since they closed the door, only staring semi-hostily at each other. Finally, Weasley couldn't stand it any longer.

"You've got lot of nerve coming here, Potter," he spat. "I know that father thinks you are a hero and the sun shines out of your butt, but I know the truth," he said darkly. Hadrian rolled his eyes.

"Please, Weasley. I thought that after your last attempt at my life you smartened up and decided not to raise any further suspicions?"

Ronald flushed angrily, though what Hadrian said did indeed gave him a pause. It was true, he really was supposed to wait for an opportunity and pretend that he was no longer a threat. Well, shit.

"Well excuse me if I can't act like a slimy Slytherin! I know what you are and it disgusts me to see you walking all mighty, pretending to be an embodiment of good!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Hadrian asked incredulously. "Walking all mighty and embodiment of good? I don't know what you are taking, but you need to halve the dose."

"Boys," Hermione stood up. "As fascinating as your bickering is, I was hoping you could be quiet and let me read a book, how about this?"

Ron's face reddened, and it was clear that he was about to launch into another tirade, no doubt featuring something about know-it-alls, but just when he started saying something, his father entered the room.

"Mister Potter, Hermione, can I ask you to come with me?" he smiled. When they reached his temporary office in the tent, he asked them to sit and started speaking.

"I wanted to thank you both, in person, for what you did. I know, that you might not have entered the chamber with the intention of saving my daughter, but you did your best, and that means a lot to me. I can't express my gratitude. House Weasley is indebted to the both of you, and if you ever need anything, just ask," he said sincerely.

"It's okay Mister Weasley," Hermione hastened to assure him. "We are sorry we couldn't help her. We miss her all the time," she said sadly. It seemed her acting skills only improved over time, Hadrian thought.

"Yes... We do," The older man sighed, and a heavy silence fell over the room. "But she wouldn't want us to be sad. She was always so happy and carefree. That's why I thought it fitting to honour her with coming here. She would love to be here with us. She was rooting for Ireland, you know?" he smiled sadly. "Ah, well, the final match is due to start in half an hour, so we should probably head out," he declared and stood up.

 **#^#**

All the Weasleys plus Hadrian and Hermione were making their way towards the stadium. All members of the red-headed family were blessed with height, so naturally, they were walking faster than the invited duo, who fell slightly back.

"You're good Granger," Hadrian mouthed at her. "Your acting skills are impressive. I almost believed it," he chuckled slightly.

"That's not the only thing I'm good at, you know?" She raised her brow suggestively. Seeing his amused and slightly incredulous expression she added, "You are not the only one allowed to tease," she smirked.

 **===#^#===**

Hadrian was surprised to see, that out of their booth, only three or four people had troubles resisting the veelas' charm. Even more surprising though was the fact that the youngest Weasley wasn't one of them. Hadrian always thought him to be rather weak-minded fool, and yet, resisting veela took considerable mental power and skill in occlumency. This was very educational; he would know now, that Ronald is not who he seems at first glance, and that he would have to treat him more seriously, especially given the threats he made at the train the previous year.

Initially, he was pissed that Lupin decided that Weasley's punishment, two weeks of detention with Filch, was good enough for attempted murder. He was all for pushing for a harsher punishment, until he really thought about it and decided that it wouldn't be good, bringing more attention to the events surrounding the Chamber of Secrets. Back then, he wasn't very skilled at Occlumency yet, and even though the oaths they had taken would help, there were many ways of extracting the truth from a mind without triggering them. He was afraid that if anyone decided to look closer at what happened in their second year, a truth could come out so he decided to let the matter be dropped.

Now, he felt slightly uncomfortable. The way their seats were arranged, he was sitting closest to the railing, next to a Granger, and had Ronald directly behind him. While Hadrian was fairly confident that the boy wouldn't try anything in the presence of his family and ministry officials, it still wasn't the best feeling, having his back exposed to someone that had already tried to kill him once.

To say nothing of Granger sitting next to him. Basically he was boxed in by his enemies, and he couldn't do anything about it but keep vigilant.

The game came and gone fairly quickly, with Hadrian not paying too much attention. As soon as the match ended, with Bulgaria winning decisively over Ireland, he stood up with the intention of departing home immediately. His plans were foiled, however, as Granger intercepted him.

"Wait for me at the edge of the forest, near the yellow path. I need to talk to you," she whispered.

"Oh for fucks sake," Hadrian muttered. "What is it with me always complying with her? She doesn't even have big boobs," he grumbled silently, making sure that he wasn't overheard.

He made his way out of the stadium, skilfully dodging all the people that would like to talk to him, and purposefully strode towards the designated meeting spot. When he reached it, he saw that he was first - Granger wasn't there yet, so he decided to scout the area just a little, just in case.

 **===#^#===**

It took longer than he expected. He was on the verge of deciding to leave, Granger be damned, when he heard explosions and smoke coming from the campsite. That was it, he thought, as he tried activating his portkey. Which proved rather ineffective, as it didn't work at all - there must have been an anti-portkey ward placed on the area. Thinking quickly, Hadrian hid in an almost invisible small cave formed below a boulder and decided to wait.

Barely five minutes later he saw a small figure approaching hastily; it looked like Granger finally decided to grace him with her presence.

"Over here," he whispered, seeing that Granger looked lost. She startled and then made an "o" with her mouth.

"Why are you sitting in a ground hole?" she asked curious.

"If you want, you might stand like a duck there, waiting to be shot, but I'd rather not take any chances. There is an anti-portkey ward here, so I have to wait it out, this, whatever it is that's going on there. What is going on?" Hadrian stumbled with words.

Hermione smirked. If she wanted, there would be nothing easier than to shower him with a volley of spells which he wouldn't be able to dodge.

"Death eaters, apparently," she explained, crouching slightly, as she too decided that standing upright wasn't the wisest position, all things considered. "Or some wannabes. Either way they are targeting anything and everything, causing chaos."

"All right," Hadrian answered, dismissing it for now. "So what was it that you wanted to talk with me about?"

"We need to decide what to do about the youngest Weasley," she started. "He has told me that he believes you to be the murderer of his sister. He can't do much, but he might be a constant thorn in your, and, by extension, my side, trying to uncover as much as possible."

Hadrian harrumphed.

"So it is about saving your ass?"

"Not only my ass, but yours as well," she fired right back.

"I'd prefer you stay away from my ass. Yours, on the other hand, I don't mind acquainting myself with," Hadrian said cheekily.

" _Rictumsempra!_ " Hermione whispered, shooting a tickling spell at Hadrian, who immediately tried to dodge... Only to discover he had no space for such manoeuvres. His eyes widened. How did he land himself, willingly, in a situation where he was at the mercy of whomever comes? Somehow, the tickling charm ricocheted, and he remained unaffected. Seeing that Hermione was laughing, amused by his ineffective attempt of dodging, he scrambled out of the hole in the ground.

" _Aguamenti_!" he yelled, aiming at her. He wasn't worried about underage magic; the area was so heavily saturated in energy that their casting wouldn't be noticed.

The girl managed to quickly cast a shield, all signs of mirth gone.

"It was only meant as a joke, you know?" she scowled. She had him at her mercy, but didn't want to do him any harm, not yet anyway. If that was her goal, she would have used a bombarda or a cutting curse.

"You whispered your incantation, for all I know it was a potentially lethal spell," Hadrian answered, looking straight at her.

"Well, it was a tickling charm," Hermione told him, shrugging.

"Perhaps," Hadrian allowed. "but you know what I think? With the Death Eaters attacking... one more body won't be so difficult to explain." And just like this, the playful mood vanished.

Hermione froze. Was he really going to attack her in earnest and try to kill? She got her answer just a wee bit later, as the boy launched into a spell chain after spell chain.

" _Aguamenti, Incendio, Diffindo!"_ Hadrian yelled. Two beams, one of fire and one of water combined mid-air and created hot steam, followed by a hidden cutting charm. Granger was good, he had to give it to her. She was shielding skilfully, her protego charm powerful, easily enough to counter most of his spells, but she wasn't overly imaginative Nor agile, and so a beginning of a plan started to form.

Shielding against the incoming beams - stunners, Hadrian mildly noted - he started running, trying to flank her. Hermione, even though magically powerful, was awfully lacking in the physical endurance and agility compartments. As he ran, he started casting multiple minor jinxes in her direction, hoping to overwhelm her. Maintaining a spherical shield was hard and required much more magic, and it was the only way she could protect herself against spells coming from different angles. Casting, Hadrian made sure to include all the colourful spells that he knew so that she wouldn't know what was coming at her, and if it was dangerous or not.

Finally, seeing that she momentarily lost her focus on him, Hadrian quickly summoned small snake and ordered it to sneakily attack Granger. The species he called wouldn't do anything serious to her, but just a single distraction would be enough for him to land a blow and he would be ready. Meanwhile, he continued running and casting, not letting the girl recuperate.

She was frustrated, he could see it. It was obvious that in her training she focused solely on learning new spells - a good thing in a structuralized, formal one-on-one duel, but a fatal flaw in any combat situation.

Suddenly, Hermione jerked and dropped her shield, flailing her arms as if trying to kill a mosquito. It was exactly what Hadrian has been waiting for; losing no time, he quickly fired several stunners from different angles, making sure that at least one would strike its intended target and indeed, it did. What Hadrian didn't expect though, was hearing another thud in the trees, where one of his stunners flown. Frowning he advanced there, making sure that Granger was out. There, in the woods, a thin man was on the ground, with his wand in hand and his arms bare. Death Eater, Hadrian thought with disgust, seeing a serpent tattoo on the man's arm. He levitated the body and got back to where Granger was lying. He deposited a body close to her, disarmed Granger and rennervated her.

 **#^#**

Hadrian stood over the girl, wand aimed at her. The girl shuddered, seeing his calculating look.

"You gonna stay like this forever?" She asked, trying to muster some courage, but for all she was and did, with the diary's influence gone, she was no longer so cold-blooded she used to. And seeing those green eyes looking at her calculatingly... she was scared.

"No," Hadrian denied. "I believe I've said once that I would kill you. So... here it comes."

Hermione's eyes widened, seeing a brown light starting to form on the tip of Hadrian's wand, a tell tale sign of a cutting curse.

"No, wait!" She yelled panicked. "Let's make a deal!"

"And what possibly could you haggle for your life with?" Hadrian replied, a touch of morbid curiosity in his voice.

"The chamber," she quickly said. Seeing the brown light receding, she continued. "You remember that the chamber is under the Fidelius charm? I'm the secret keeper. I can key you in, you will be able to train there or simply hide whenever you want to. There are also several secret passages out of school from there, few bedrooms and even a library," she was speaking urgently. Hadrian seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then he nodded.

"Very well, speak."

"Give me the oath that you will let me go," Granger countered warily, though she regained some confidence.

"Fine, I Hadrian Potter do swear on my magic that as long as you give me the secret to all the fidelius charms on the chamber and its entrance, as well as a means to enter it, in the next five minutes, I will not kill you, today, and that I will let you go this time, unless you attack me in any way. So I swear, so mote it be," he intoned, and a bright flash sealed his vow. He lowered his wand, looking expectantly at Granger who, in the meantime, stood up and cleaned herself, scowling.

"The entrance to the chamber of secrets is behind the middlemost sink in the second floor lavatory. The chamber of secrets is at the end of the tunnel leading to it," she grumbled. "Just so you know, this is not the end, I won't let you win this easily next time," she promised, to which Hadrian only laughed.

"I know you will try," he said smirking, but then he got serious. "I wasn't going to kill you today, Granger. For all your smarts you are still remarkably naive and stupid. I'll do it when there is no way for me to be blamed, not in a goddamn forest near the biggest wizarding event in the country, especially knowing that aurors will be swarming the area in minutes, but I will do it, nothing's changed on this front."

Hermione looked to be equally disturbed and outraged that she had been tricked. Eventually she nodded and turned around.

"Who is it and what do we do about him?" She pointed at the stunned body lying where Hadrian levitated it. Seeing the downed man didn't even surprise Hermione after being awakened.

"It's a death eater," Hadrian said disgusted, pointing at the bared arm of the man. "I don't know what he was trying to do, but I don't think we should leave him here. If the aurors find him and he is interrogated with the veritaserum, he will spew about our little duel, which we don't want," he mused, twirling his wand between his fingers.

"Do we kill him?" Granger asked matter-of-factly.

"As much as I appreciate your willingness to kill for me baby," Hadrian seemed to regain his fourteen-year-old wits, "I don't think this is the way to go about it, but I think..." he wondered aloud, completely ignoring the blushing Hermione Granger. Suddenly, he whipped his wand and pointed it at the man, murmuring a spell. Slowly, the body shrunk, turning into small stone cube, which he then picked and pocketed. "I think I've got an idea. You keep quiet about it and I might just let you watch," he winked at her suggestively, and touched his portkey. "Home," he said clearly and disappeared, leaving Hermione Granger furiously trying to control her teenage hormones.

* * *

 **A/N:** Just to make one thing clear, as many of you PM me worried - there will be no HP/HG pairing, at least not in any meaningful way. Just to point out though (not saying if it's relevant or not), they tend to use each other - to gain a worthy opponent, to gain access to the chamber, who knows what else for, especially as hormones start buzzing?


	9. Chapter 9: Vault Opening Fee

**Vault Opening Fee**

A long, low rumbling sound could be heard throughout the city. It was the third storm this week, and one already shaping up to be quite powerful one. Muggles, much more adept at foreseeing the weather than wizards, issued several alerts urging citizens to stay indoors if possible, or stay close to a possible places of shelter if not.

Hadrian swore loudly, fighting the raging wind. Britain's weather wasn't something that could be called 'mild', not even during the best summer he could remember, but this, this was something else. If he didn't know better he would think that some wizard had a hand in causing this. Fortunately, major and wide-scale weather and climate magic was so demanding, that no single lunatic could ever have hope of harnessing the nature's power, not even Dumbledore or Voldemort. Which was both good and bad, at the same time. Good, because if wizards had power to affect climate, it would be downright disaster, what with their lack of common sense and bad because it seemed that he would have to simply endure, no matter how many frogs the sky decided to throw at him.

He was fighting his way to Dursleys, as just few short hours earlier he got a distress call from his aunt. Apparently, an owl came with a message to the Dursleys to expect someone arrive in the evening to escort Harry to Hogwarts in his capacity as a Member of the School Council. He didn't know what this could be about; he could only suspect that it had something to do with the clause that forbade Headmaster from doing anything major without notifying the council first. Perhaps, he had managed to find a new DADA post candidate.

"I'm here," he announced loudly as soon as he slipped inside through an open door in the back. He was wearing his invisibility cloak walking, making sure to not be seen by anyone Dumbledore could possibly send for him. They weren't supposed to arrive this early, but with wizards you never knew.

"Your room's waiting for you. Be good and try not to wake us when you're back," Petunia said grumpily, hardly looking at him. "Oh, and don't bother Dudley since he is studying," she added as an afterthought.

"Of course," he replied, managing to hold the snort. If Dudley wanted his privacy, he was probably doing something he wasn't supposed to, like smoking pot, relieving stress in _a sinful manner_ or something. Either way he had no desire to meet his cousin, much less to intrude on something. After all, what was seen could not be unseen... Hadrian quickly made his way to his old room and decided to have a nap. He was woken early by the call, which was saying something considering how early bird he was, and felt sleepy ever since.

 **#^#**

"Hadrian come here!" yelled Vernon. Hadrian could hear in his voice, how painful it was for the walrus of a man to use his name instead of an impersonal 'boy'. He quickly obeyed and went down.

"Professor Quirrell," he said, genuinely surprised. Ever since that fateful conversation the two had during Hadrian's first summer from school, they were keeping strictly business-like relationship. It wasn't even a conscious choice - it just so happened like this.

"Good afternoon, Hadrian," the man acknowledged. He was wearing semi-formal muggle attire, with black trousers, white shirt with a tie and a black raincoat. Which was oddly dry, come to think of it, given the weather outside. "Mister Dursley, it was a pleasure meeting you. Mister Potter, please come with me. We'll be apparating from your front yard; I've taken liberty to cast a temporary notice-me-not ward there."

"Fine," Hadrian agreed. "Could you please impervious me against the weather, professor?"

Quirrell smirked, obviously amused, though Hadrian had no idea why. But then the man nodded, and quickly cast a silent charm at Hadrian, who immediately felt insulated. He waved at his uncle, promised to be silent when he returned, having no intention of actually entering the house again this summer, and stepped outside after his teacher.

"Well Mister Potter, please touch me, I'll be side-apparating us."

 **#^#**

"Do you know why am I being summoned, Professor?" Hadrian asked, as soon as he regained his breath after apparition.

"I do," Quirrell confirmed curtly, though his eyes shone brightly in amusement, again. Honestly, Hadrian thought, it looks like this man is amused all the time at the weirdest things.

"Could you tell me?"

"I could," the man agreed again.

"Well, will you?" Hadrian asked after a short moment of silence.

"Partly. You will be informed of what is going to happen in the upcoming school year and the headmaster is going to present you a new candidate for the DADA post, I think," Quirinus answered with this irritating smirk of his.

"Why can't you be DADA teacher again?"

"And who said I can't?"

Hadrian sighed. He held a deep respect for the man, he was obviously powerful, but he could also be so annoying at times. He decided to let it go, which apparently suited Quirrell just fine, as the man started humming something. When they reached the Great Hall, Hadrian saw that most of the representatives were already there. He made his way over to his block and greeted everyone, taking the longest to hug Daphne.

"It's good to see you, Hadrian," the girl said happily.

"And it's good to see you too. Though I'd like to point out that we've seen each other just few days ago," he said smiling; it was obvious that the boy was happy to meet his friends.

"I know, it was fun," Daphne declared in an uncharacteristic honesty for a Slytherin.

"I still cherish the memory of when you fell into the pool," Draco piped in. The trio chatted away for a while longer until Cedric Diggory decided to call the meeting to order.

"If I may have your attention please? Thank you. We have met here today on the request of our Headmaster, so without further ado I give him the floor, Professor Dumbledore?"

"Yes, thank you," Dumbledore appeared on the guest lectern, wearing outrageously pink robes. "I have asked you to come here because there is going to be a certain event happening at Hogwarts this upcoming school year that I think you should be aware of. I know some of you won't be pleased that I'm informing you of this only now, post factum, but it wasn't my decision. Rather, it was all handled by our ministry, and as such you wouldn't be able to influence it anyhow either way.

The event I'm talking about is the Triwizard Tournament, an ancient competition between the three major European schools, with each presenting a champion to fight for an eternal glory and riches. It is being reinstated after several centuries in spirit of cooperation between the nations of Great Britain, Scandinavia and France. Now, before we move to a second reason this meeting is happening, do you have any questions so far?"

A short silence ensued, with all students processing the information presented. Finally, Susan Bones spoke.

"Headmaster, why hasn't this tournament been happening during those centuries?"

"Because of the death toll," Dumbledore answered gravely. "It wasn't uncommon for a contestant to die during or after the tasks. The nature of the tournament requires that the tasks are difficult and dangerous, and the spirit of rivalry sometimes caused contestants to resort to sabotage."

Susan wasn't the only one that gasped, several students were clearly shocked.

"Headmaster, can I assume, that if you decided to go forward with this, some precautions are being put in place?" Cedric asked concerned.

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded. "Much thought was put into making sure that everything is as safe as possible. Still, even with the precautions in place, the tasks will be dangerous; that's why only those of age will be allowed to participate."

"Headmaster," Draco stood up. "My father happened to be involved in the negotiations between the ministries, and when he heard that I was summoned for the meeting, he allowed me to read through all the final arrangements. I did so, and I didn't find there anything about the age restriction. Could you please explain this?"

"It was my decision," Dumbledore admitted, looking vaguely uncomfortable. "I thought it best."

"That might be, but shouldn't you discuss this with us, or at the very least the board of governors beforehand?"

"It is my duty as a headmaster of this school to do whatever I feel is best to ensure the safety of the pupils," Dumbledore declared, a hint of steel in his voice. The council could wield a lot of power, but he would be damned if he allowed school children to make him obsolete. "And I'm afraid this is not something that you can vote on, as it's my sole prerogative."

"The Headmaster is right," said a new voice. Hadrian smirked; as soon as he heard of this meeting, he arranged for this man to be here.

"And who might you be?" Cedric enquired.

"Adrian Bowls, attorney. I've been asked by Representative Potter to attend this meeting and act as a counsel."

"Ah, very well. So you say we can't vote on this matter?" Cedric asked for clarification.

"Indeed, it is as Headmaster says."

"Very well. Then, if there are no more questions?" Cedric looked over the assembled crowd. "Then perhaps we may move onto the next matter. Headmaster?"

"Of course. The second matter is also strictly informational. I have chosen a new candidate for the post of DADA; I'm sure many of you are familiar with the name of Alastor Moody, retired auror."

 **#^#**

"Headmaster Dumbledore asked me to make sure that you are safe and sound with your relatives," Quirrell said as they apparated in a secluded spot near the Privet Drive. "Something tells me that you will appreciate it better if we part our ways now," he looked significantly at the teenager, who for his part looked the epitome of innocence. "Yes, I thought so. Have a good summer, Mister Potter, and a good night to you," he said, and without waiting for a response of any kind he vanished with a silent _pop_.

 _Well, time to go home,_ Hadrian thought, mentally preparing for an hour of commuting through suburbs and the city. Luckily, the rush hour was over, so it shouldn't be that bad.

 **===#^#===**

Hadrian stared at the inconspicuous stone cube lying on the table. He was wondering what to do with the death eater he managed to accidentally stun during his duel with Granger for quite some time now. He was toying with the idea of turning him over to the authorities, but it would cause them to ask several hard questions he had no intention of answering. Hadrian could probably do so anonymously, but he was more than certain that it would only result in them letting him go. He had read enough history books to know, that the 'imperius defense' was very effective for some reason.

At last, he managed to come up with a good answer to his dilemma while on a train back to London from Surrey. He was only hoping to Merlin and back, that his idea wouldn't bite him in his bottom.

"Ah, Mister Potter," Griphook smiled, which caused him to look quite predatory. "I've been told that there is something you wanted to discuss in privacy so I have arranged this room that is proofed against any kind of espionage; you can freely speak your mind."

"Very well. Griphook, I won't pull wool over your eyes. This cube here is a transfigured death eater that I have accidentally knocked out during the Quidditch Cup. I took him because he stumbled upon something that I've been doing that I don't want to be publicly known, what do you suggest I do?"

The goblin peered intently over the cube and seemed lost in thoughts for a moment or two.

"I suppose you considered all obvious ways of dealing with him. Turning him over won't work for you, killing is a little bit too much and you have no place safe to keep him prisoner, am I correct?"

"You are."

"You do understand, Mister Potter, that legally we can't do much, right?"

"That's why I asked for a meeting with you, not with Mister Bowles."

"Indeed, I can't legally suggest you anything, but," he raised his pointy finger, seeing disappointment on Hadrian's face. "I can tell you what I would do in your situation, hypothetically speaking of course."

"Of course..."

"I would ask for a new vault with security level B, and then I'd ask for bars and cuffs to be installed inside. We here, at Gringotts, don't ask many questions, it's not our job..."

"And how much would this cost me?" Hadrian asked suspiciously.

"Not very much. It would be a standard vault opening fee of hundred Galleons, and another hundred for the bars."

"Okay, where do I sign?"

"You don't. I will just deduct the appropriate amount from your account. Or would you rather leave paper trail?"

"That won't be necessary."

 **#^#**

Hadrian carefully put the cube down inside the cage in his new vault. He wondered how many more vaults-turned-cells were in Gringotts, and he shivered. It was scary, what the little buggers could do if you were willing to pay few Galleons.

The cage was made from goblin steel and warded to be resistant against any magic cast from inside, while at the same time not stopping anything coming from the outside. It turned out that such cages were a common sells, as they were used to capture magical animals, many of which had some eldritch abilities.

" _Finite_ ," he said, waving his wand in a complicated motion. There, before his eyes, the cube turned back into a man. Hadrian made sure that the cage was closed, summoned his prisoner's wand and cast _rennervate_ spell. The man inhaled sharply. He was trying to stand up, but a fit of coughing stopped him. Hadrian waited patiently, studying him. His prisoner was thin, and much older than he thought at first. He looked to be about sixty years old, with long, unruly black hair. Other than that he had no distinctive features.

"It's almost noon, you know, a high time to finally be awake," Hadrian commented finally, seeing that the man was taking longer than expected. His prisoner turned to him warily. By now he must have realized he was restrained, and was probably trying to find some escape route.

"Who are you?" he croaked in a raspy voice.

"I'm just a nameless ghoul," Hadrian declared in a smug tone. Before coming here he made sure to acquire a mask concealing his features and voice, so that whatever happened, he wouldn't be recognized. "The real question is, who are you?"

"I'm no one," the man murmured. "I could have been someone, if not for you. Now, I am useless and deserve whatever happens to me," he said defeated. Hadrian blinked. He wasn't expecting such defeatism. On the contrary, he thought that the prisoner would fight and struggle.

"What is your name?"

"Barty."

"Barty...?"

"Barty Crouch."

"Listen," Hadrian said exasperated. He had met the real Bartemius Crouch before the cup, and this was definitely not him. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I have some veritaserum prepared, and this place is warded well enough that I could probably use crucio on you without triggering the taboo. I could use both, I heard that being crucioed under the influence of truth serum is much less pleasant, why don't you stop playing games with me and tell me your real name?"

"Do what you have to do," the prisoner shrugged, not giving a damn.

"So be it," Hadrian said and uncorked a vial of clear liquid. He quickly cast a body-bind on the man, and then spelled the vial's content in his stomach, not having any desire to open the cage. He waited for a minute, and started his interrogation once the man's eyes were suitably glassy.

"What is your real name?"

"Bartemius Crouch."

 _Huh._

"Are you related to the Bartemious Crouch from the ministry of magic?"

"I'm his son."

 _Huh, times two._

"How old are you?"

"I'm thirty two."

 _Looks can be deceiving, it seems._

"What was your plan during the Quidditch Cup?"

"I wanted to cast the dark mark on the sky to scare off the pretenders, and then cause a localized earthquake."

"What do you mean by pretenders?"

"The filthy cowards that denounced our Lord, and wanted to have some fun." Even through the veritaserum, Hadrian could almost hear the last word spat in hatred.

"Ah, I see, a fanatic. What did you mean earlier, who could have you been if not for me?"

"I would be my Lord's most trusted," he declared.

"And your Lord is...?" Hadrian asked, though he had pretty good idea what would come next.

"The Dark Lord."

Hadrian stood up and began pacing. The Dark Lord, yet again. For a man that was supposedly dead for over a decade, he was surprisingly chirpy, popping out here and there all the time.

"Is the Dark Lord alive?"

"He is," came the not so unexpected reply.

"The last I heard of him, he was a wraith, is he a wraith now?"

"No."

Hadrian was getting slightly frustrated. As powerful veritaserum was, it had still severe limitations. One of them being the necessity of asking questions. The interrogated person would only feel compelled to answer to questions, almost never sharing anything on their own, and not responding to anything else.

"What form is he?"

"He is a homunculus."

"Who made it?"

"I have."

"Where is he now?"

"I can't say."

"Why can't you say?"

"Because of the wards on that place."

"Is it in Britain?"

"Yes."

"Was creating an earthquake during the cup his plan?"

"Yes."

"Do you know about any other plans of your lord?"

"I do."

Hadrian growled. He had enough and decided to take a break; he still had another vial of veritaserum, but if he was to learn of Voldemort's plans, he would have to record it somehow. He would return the next day; it wasn't as if his prisoner was going anywhere, but just in case...he waved his wand and transfigured him into a cube again; it wouldn't do if the man somehow managed to commit a suicide while left on his own.

 **===#^#===**

The last day of summer came surprisingly quick and what a busy summer it was. Between the cup, interrogating his prisoner, learning magic, preparing for Voldemort's schemes and visiting Daphne, Hadrian had much less time to relax than he would have preferred. And yet, he was much happier than ever after the summer.

Most of his belongings were already packed in his trunk, waiting for the next day. For once, Hadrian decided to forego his daily workout session, opting instead to visit the Magical Library and stock on some more questionable books, ones that he was sure wouldn't be found in Hogwarts. The day was, at last, and ironically just as the summer was ending, sunny and warm. As Hadrian was walking down the road to the closest Underground station, he reminisced about his second Crouch interrogation.

 _ **===FlashBack===**_

 _"Will you tell me about your Lord's plans, or do you prefer I use veritaserum again on you?" Hadrian asked, as soon as Crouch was man again._

 _"Depends," a phlegmatic reply came. "Are you going to kill me later?"_

 _"Do you want me to?"_

 _"Yes. If you swear an oath that you'll kill me, I'll tell you what you want to know."_

 _Hadrian hesitated. He was a killer, there was no doubt about that_ _b_ _ut killing wasn't something he enjoyed, and whenever he could, he would always look for a different route, as long as it wasn't overly complicated one. And here he was presented with a choice: kill a person that wants it, gaining useful information or refrain from killing, and struggle with extracting the truth piece by piece for who knows how long. And then be presented with a dilemma, what to do with said person when they are no longer useful. He couldn't keep Crouch imprisoned forever, but he also couldn't let him go. Taking this into consideration..._

 _"Very well, if that is what you want. But you will also swear an oath to be truthful, on a painful and prolonged death."_

 _"Fine. Will you give me my wand then?" Crouch smirked, already knowing the answer._

 _"Of course I won't. You will swear in writing, with your blood. Here," Hadrian said, banishing a piece of paper to the cage._

 _Once both vows were completed, Hadrian motioned for the men to start talking._

 _"There is going to be an international competition held at Hogwarts this year..." the man_ _begun._

 _ **===EndFlashBack===**_

The knowledge that he was supposed to be entered against his will as a champion for the _fourth_ , non-existent school, win the tournament and then be a sacrificial lamb for the ritual granting Voldemort a new body was kind of worrying. If Hadrian was a different person, a proper word would probably be 'horrifying', but as he wasn't, well, what someone else would see as a danger and a possible certain death, he saw as a possibility. The question was, how to seize it?

 **#^#**

 _Aha!_ Hadrian thought triumphantly. He finally found a book that he was hunting for for years and he got it, at last. Surely, it was a little bit late, but there were still several hours of the day left, and to make a good use of the book, half an hour would probably suffice. He quickly copied the book and left the library, over a dozen other copies safely in his trunk, and a 'History of Wizarding Transportation' in his backpack. When Blaise inevitably would start talking about the train, Thestrals or what else, he would be ready.


	10. Chapter 10: It's a trap!

**It's a trap**

* * *

A violent shove caused Hadrian to lose his balance and land on the floor of the station.

"Watch where you're going," snarled Ronald Weasley, eliciting a loud shriek from behind him.

"Ronald Weasley, behave yourself this instant!" A plump, red-haired woman, obviously mother Weasley, demanded.

"Yeah, whatever," the youngest Weasley shrugged and walked away, to the outrage of his mother. She looked at him angrily for a while, and then turned to Hadrian, who just managed to stand up.

"I'm sorry about his behaviour," she said frankly. "Ever since Ginny died, he's not been himself. He has monstrous troubles coping with her death. We've all been devastated, but Ron..." She sighed.

"That's okay," Hadrian said, even though every fibre of his body screamed it was not. He was almost fed up with Weasley's behaviour, and if the boy didn't control himself, he would do something about him. Perhaps showing him how his sister died wasn't all that bad of an idea... "I know you've been through a lot. Though I must admit, he seems to be more and more antagonistic towards me with every year passing, it's worrying."

"Oh, he'll eventually come around, I'm sure of that," Matron Weasley said with confidence that came only with raising several kids. "Now off you go, or you'll miss the train," she cautioned.

Hadrian looked at the big, wall-mounted clock, and swore silently. It was true, he was almost late, and that 'almost' bit would disappear if he didn't hurry. It was his first summer of freedom, and, coincidentally, his first time that he wasn't early aboard the train, but it wasn't his fault, he reasoned; he had to make sure that his apartment was put under proper stasis charms, and it couldn't be done earlier than just at the moment of his leaving. Of course, he could've thought of that and simply left earlier, but he wasn't expecting casting those charms to be so time-consuming. He quickly made his way to the train, managing to enter just on time. Now, it was only a matter of finding his friends.

 **#^#**

"So, Hadrian. I was wondering. Has there ever been an accident on the train?" Blaise asked, to the amusement of the rest of the group. They were once again all riding together: Hadrian, Daphne, Tracy, Theo, Blaise, Draco and Amy. Shortly after the train set off, another person joined them - Pansy Parkinson. The fourteen year old girl, truly to Hadrian's prediction from the second year, developed nicely and was a real eye candy. She was tall, with long brown hair and some nice curves. Unfortunately, she was still remarkably obtuse. One could only hope that after she was done with the physical development, a brain compartment would come next.

"There was," Hadrian confirmed, once he stopped ogling Parkinson's body. "Just, it wasn't a train accident per se, more a warding accident. In 1942, a ward collapsed close to the moving train. The backlash caused the train to derail and several students were bruised, but there were no serious injuries."

"A warding accident?" Theo furrowed his brow. "But how? Those wards must have been in place for centuries by then, and most wards only get more powerful with the passing time," he noted. Of them all, Theo was probably the best when it came to runes and their practical applications, flourishing under the tutelage of Professor Quirrell. He would often help them study and do their homework, whereas he himself was quite commonly seen fiddling with some runic array of his.

"It wasn't explained in detail," Hadrian admitted. "Only that there was a peculiar mistake made, that caused some weird feedback loop between the rails, wards and the train itself. After this one time, all the wards were stripped down and rebuilt with the use of a different kind of runic stones."

"I wonder if it is possible to take a look at the runic designs," Theo mused wistfully.

"Unlikely," Amy piped in. "It would be like an invitation to study and exploit them, a perfect opportunity for the terrorists..."

Before she could finish the sentence, a door of their compartment slid open and an angered Gryffindor prefect barged in.

"Potter," he snarled. "You'll come with me, move it!" He yelled, seeing the disbelieving stare on the faces of the Slytherins.

"Who the hell are you?" Draco demanded.

The boy straightened out, and reddened, seeing that it wouldn't go as smoothly as he had hoped.

"I'm the prefect, that's all you need to know Malfoy. Potter move it or it will be detention even before the start of classes," he declared.

"Now see here," Tracy stood up. "We don't really care who you think you are. Hadrian is a member of School Council, and thus under immunity, so you can't make him nor assign a detention. Now, kindly bugger off or we will make you," she finished, scowling.

Hadrian looked at the boy, trying to discern what his problem was. Throughout the whole debacle he remained silent, preferring to observe the intruder instead, but now he decided he was done.

"What is your name?" he asked, his voice immediately cutting off the ongoing argument.

"Chris," the boy said automatically, thrown off his guard for a moment.

"Okay Chris. How about this: you tell us what the hell you want, and then I'll decide if I want to walk with you. Or, option number two, you get out of here and come back once you are willing to talk, or even better, never."

The boy reddened even further, what made him look like a ripe tomato.

"How dare you! I'll..."

The boy never finished his sentence, as he was forcibly thrown out of the compartment with a powerful banishing hex.

"Wrong answer," said Daphne coldly as she flicked her wand again, closing and warding the door. Other occupants of the compartment looked at her with admiration, astonishment or simply mirth. "Now, back to the topic. You were saying, Amy?"

It took Amy a minute to compose herself, but then she continued her thought.

"Look at Hogwarts for example, it has powerful wards, that have been studied many times over the centuries. There are widely available runic arrays speculated to be similar or even identical to those at the school but the original wards and arrays have been declared a protected secret by the ministry, and are guarded by the Unspeakables, so any would-be-attacker has a tougher job."

"Yeah, I know," Theo admitted. "It's said though that goblins might have a copy of at least some part of the ward scheme. Not that it helps any, they are unlikely to be of any help."

A loud noise was suddenly heard coming from the door. Immediately, the whole group drew their wands.

"Oh come on," Blaise muttered disbelievingly, seeing that the banished prefect was trying to force his way in, again.

"What is his problem?" Draco scowled.

"Shall we let him in?" Pansy asked unsure.

"I see no reason to," Hadrian said. "But it might quickly get annoying, so..." He aimed his wand and quickly raised the obscuring and muffling wards on the door. "There," he declared smugly.

"Also it's interesting to note, that a prefect was unable to remove Daphne's ward," Tracy mused. "Is your ward so strong, or do they make prefects out of the biggest morons?"

The rest of the journey continued peacefully, with academic discussion mostly about wards and runes. Only when the train was due to arrive soon, did the problem occur. As soon as Hadrian dispelled the obscuring ward, they all could see that the persistent prefect was lurking outside the compartment, which made the usual arrangement, wherein they took turns changing into their robes, impossible. It wasn't really all that troublesome, as only Pansy, Blaise and Theo weren't already in their robes, but it still posed a challenge. Finally, the group decided to put a similar obscuring ward in the middle of the compartment, dividing them by the gender.

The ward was cast by Hadrian, the most proficient in privacy wards of them. Blaise and Theo quickly donned their robes, having no need for any prolonged fiddling with them, but then they were waiting.

"Hey mate," Blaise turned to Hadrian. "Do you think you could make this ward transparent on one side, so that we can... you know... take a peek?"

"Blaise!" Theo exclaimed.

"Oh come on Theo, knock it off. I know very well that you wouldn't mind seeing Pansy without her robes," Blaise said back.

"Of course I wouldn't, hell, the girl is hot! But not like this, there are limits, they are our friends, we can't betray their trust like this!"

Hadrian nodded; his thoughts exactly. If it was just Pansy there, he wouldn't hesitate, as he didn't consider her a friend, but other girls were there as well, claiming that they wanted to refresh themselves, whatever this could mean, and he wouldn't violate their privacy just like this. But then, Amy appeared.

"Huh, that's a weird feeling, walking through this ward," she admitted. "Come on boys, you can go ahead if you like," she said.

"Huh?"

"I'm not stupid, you know? I've seen the way you all ogled Parkinson. The other girls are almost done, and all fully dressed, so you won't abuse the trust... too much. If you want to take a peek, I won't mind, the bitch is as slutty as they go, she would probably like it anyway" she declared calmly, with a hint of disapproval towards the Parkinson girl. Hadrian looked at her for a second, as if searching for something and then, seemingly satisfied, he flicked his wand and made the veil transparent on their side. Unfortunately for the boys, Pansy was just finishing dressing up. Amy sniggered.

"Did you really think I would allow you to see anything? Slut she may be, but she's still a girl that I share a house with. But now," she said reproachfully, "now I know what you are capable of. I wonder, what will you do to prevent me from telling the girls about that? Oh please," she added, seeing their disbelieving looks. "I'm a Slytherin, what did you expect? You owe me boys, each a small favour to be collected later, how does it sound?"

The boys could only nod, silently wondering how they could get so easily outsmarted and trapped. _Hormones suck_ , decided Hadrian.

"Great! Now, fix the veil or they will find out either way," Amy smiled brilliantly, sitting herself comfortably.

 **#^#**

"It is my sad duty to announce that this year, there will be no inter-house Quidditch cup," Dumbledore announced solemnly, to which almost immediately several displeased conversations broke up. "The reason for this being is," he tried to continue, but just then the Great Hall's door were violently opened, and in walked in, a heavily disfigured person.

"And that would be Moody, I guess?" Hadrian silently asked Daphne.

"Yes, that's him," she confirmed. "You did your research about him, didn't you," it was not a question, but a statement.

"Of course and I must admit, if he is as good as he is said to be, I'm looking forward to classes with him."

"Ah, Alastor, it's good to see you," an amused voice of Dumbledore was heard. "Let me introduce, Professor Alastor Moody, our new DADA professor!"

Only few people decided to clap politely from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw; Slytherin, however, gave a thunderous applause, as they understood better than anyone that it would be wise to get on the good side of the man. When the ruckus quitted down and Moody was seated on the staff table, the headmaster rose again.

"As I was saying earlier, this year there will be no Quidditch Cup. The reason for this is an international event that will be held at Hogwarts, namely - The Triwizard Tournament!"

What would probably be a highly unexpected and revolutionary announcement, were it not for a School Council foreknowledge, was met with a moderate excitement, as most students had already known. As Dumbledore was explaining about the technicalities of the tournament, Draco leaned to Hadrian and Daphne.

"Did he mention anything at all about cancelling Quidditch during the Council session?" he whispered.

"No he didn't," Daphne scowled. "But he should have."

"I'll ask that an emergency session is called as soon as possible," Draco decided, gleeful that he could knock Dumbledore down a peg. Hadrian shrugged; he wasn't a Quidditch fan and he didn't really care about it happening or not.

"...And with that, I believe today's ceremony is concluded. Once again, welcome, or welcome back to Hogwarts, and off you go!" Dumbledore finished.

 **#^#**

"Everybody, please stay here for a few more minutes," a sixth year House Council member asked loudly as soon as the whole house was in their common room. "We need to decide what do we do with the Council representatives. Gemma Farley and Marcus Flint are no longer students, and so we have two vacating seats. We, that is the House Council, have decided to only vote on candidates for those; the occupied seats will not be contested, unless someone is willing to issue a formal challenge. You have till tomorrow evening to decide if you want to run for the seat, and to gain support. That will be all, thank you."

 **#^#**

Hadrian opened his room's door, frowning as he saw that his room was bare, save for the most basic amenities. It seemed that during the summer all of the furniture, wards and enchantments he cast disappeared. The enchantments missing alone wouldn't be surprising, as they were always dispelled at the end of the year. The lack of his own furniture and wards was puzzling though. He frowned even more when he noticed a piece of paper stuck to his trunk. As soon as he was satisfied that there was nothing harmful on it, he picked it up and read.

 _All your things are safely stored inside. You will, however, not be able to open it. I have cursed your trunk and locked it with a passphrase, which will be provided to you upon meeting my conditions._

 _1\. You will pay one hundred Galleons to a vault #84920 by friday, 9AM. If you will not do so by then, the price will go higher, to five hundred Galleons. If you will not pay it by Sunday, the curse will activate, liquefying - literally, with a liquefying curse - all that is inside your trunk._

 _2\. Do not try to open the trunk or break the curse. It is spelled in such a way that any attempt will result in activating the curse._

Hadrian stared at the letter disbelievingly. What the fuck? How could anyone intercept his trunk in-between the train and his coming here? Who was the culprit? Was the letter truthful? He swore loudly, punching a wall. He was just about to leave his room, when he heard a knocking. Outside stood Daphne, fuming, with a similar letter that he got in her hand.

"I see we need to hasten this emergency meeting Draco was talking about," was all Hadrian said as he brushed past her and made his way to Draco's room. He knocked impatiently, and when he was let in he noticed they weren't the only ones, as at least four other students were inside, all obviously agitated.

"Don't tell me you are being blackmailed as well," Draco asked resignedly.

"We need to do something Draco," Daphne said urgently. "We should immediately demand that an emergency session is called, with Dumbledore present," she said.

"Already done, I've sent a message to Diggory. I also tried reaching to Professor Snape, but he is not in his quarters."

"How many are affected?" asked Hadrian, hoping to get a measure of what was going on.

"From our house, over a half of all above the third year. Curiously, not even one below the age of thirteen. From our year, only Millicent got spared," he explained tiredly.

Just then a silver patronus, a swan, appeared, and spoke with the voice of Cedric Diggory.

 _"Half the school is affected. Session in an hour, headmaster and heads will be there."_

After this, there was a short silence, until Draco lost patience.

"Okay, you've heard him. We'll know something soon. Why don't you guys leave?" he motioned for the other Slytherins. "Daphne, Hadrian, Blaise, Amy, Pansy, you could stay," he allowed generously.

"Nah, I think I'll go take a shower," Blaise announced. "I've heard that Hogwarts provides towels if you ask nicely."

"I'll have a nap," Amy seconded. "Let me know as soon as you know something."

"And I'm going to figure out if I have anything left that is not locked down," sighed Daphne unhappily.

Seeing that she was about to stay alone with Draco, Pansy's eyes lit up. Draco, seeing this, looked horrified. Not one to deny a friend some fun, Hadrian hastily gave some excuse and left them alone, making sure to cast a muffling ward on Draco's door.

 **#^#**

"I think there is no need for any grand speech, so I immediately give the floor to the headmaster. Headmaster Dumbledore, you've been examining several trunks, did you find something, anything?"

Dumbledore quickly reached the lectern and started speaking.

"Yes, I have been examining five trunks. For those of you that don't know the full scale of this incident, all the houses were targeted, with a completely unclear criteria. In Gryffindor, only boys were targeted, regardless of their age. In Ravenclaw, girls. In Slytherin, only those in fourth year and above, while in Hufflepuff it was seemingly random. All things considered, 48% of the students were attacked, because that is what we consider it - an attack.

Aurors have already been notified and an investigation team is assembling right now. I have already taken the liberty and interrogated the house elves, but to my best knowledge they were not involved.

What you probably want to know most, is if the curses on the trunks are real and if so, can they be broken. Unfortunately, the answer is yes, to the first question. The curse is very real and cast with sufficient power to destroy all that's inside in a matter of seconds. I have also been able to discern that the locking charm is connected with the curse, making it work indeed as the letter says.

I have already contacted Gringotts, and a team of curse breakers will be arriving here tomorrow. They will do their best to help us. Right now, I'd like to urge all of you to leave your belongings alone."

"Do we know who is behind this attack?" Hermione Granger asked.

"We don't. The identity of the vault's owner is protected by Gringotts, and because of treaties we can't force the Goblins to reveal it unless said person is accused of a crime that is considered as such also by the Goblins. Which is not the case. And, to be truthful, even if it were, I suspect that the vault is under a false name. We'll see what the aurors will be able to find out, but to be honest, I think our best bet is to pay the ransom once, and then try to follow whatever way the culprit chooses to send us the passphrase."

"Headmaster Dumbledore," Hadrian stood up, seeing that the man finished talking. "I've had several wards on my room. I've been adding them since my second year here, and contrary to my room's enchantments, they were never dispelled through the summer. And yet, when I came back today, they were all gone. Was it doing of Hogwarts, or was this the attacker's work?"

Dumbledore looked decidely uncomfortable for a moment, before answering his question.

"I'm afraid it was my decision," he admitted. "At the beginning of the summer I decided to review the state of the school wards. To do this, I had to cleanse the castle of all foreign magic first, and in doing so I've unraveled all the wards cast by students."

"Is it possible, that this action was what allowed the attacks to happen?"

"I doubt it. The dormitories have all its own wards that would inform me about any foreign presence in them, but they didn't. So either it was a coordinated attack by several people from different houses, or it was someone powerful enough to confound the wards, which would mean, no offence to you, that your own wards would be useless anyhow. But yes, I suppose if it was done by the students, then your wards could have slowed them down," he reluctantly allowed.

Hadrian sighed, sitting down. It was all academics, really; what was done, was done, and no amount of tossing the blame around would help. Apparently all the representatives arrived to this conclusion, because after a short silence, Draco stood.

"I would like to address a different matter altogether. During the summer, you have informed us of the Triwizard Tournament but you said nothing about cancelling the Quidditch Cup," he demanded.

"An oversight on my part, I'm afraid," headmaster said, not at all looking apologetic.

"I see," Draco said. "In that case I move to instate an informal Quidditch Cup, to be played between the tasks, with the rules to stay the same as during the official school cup. I'll have a draft of this proposal on our first regular meeting."

"I second that," surprisingly, it was Ronald Weasley who supported Draco. It looked that when it came to Quidditch, a unified front could form, no matter the house.

"Very well," Cedric declared. "I believe this session is done for today, as we all want some sleep. Oh, about that, one more thing," he suddenly remembered. "We, that's to say, the Headmaster and I, have talked to the elves. They will provide pyjamas and toilet utensils till this situation is resolved, and tomorrow's lessons will all be practical ones, so you need only your wands, while potions are cancelled. Please pass this on your houses."

 **#^#**

The next day was one of the most chaotic ever at Hogwarts, which was saying something, as the school had seen a wild troll,Basilisk, a student dying, a dark wraith, and who knows what else. All the dormitories were investigated, room by room, by the aurors and officials from several ministry departments. As soon as they were done, a proper investigation was launched, with all the students being asked about their possible involvement or any possible leads they might have.

At 2 PM sharp, another group arrived, consisting of several tough looking wizards and witches, accompanied by equally tough goblins, who immediately requested that a secluded wing of the castle be provided for them, as they needed space and warded one to that, to conduct experiments.

Initially, lessons were supposed to be practical, but in spite of all the ruckus, it was decided to cancel them at least till monday, when the situation would resolve itself, one way or another.

Hadrian, having already been interrogated, decided to make the best of the free time, and visit the Chamber of Secrets. Carefully donning his invisibility cloak, he entered the bathroom, making sure he wasn't seen. He looked around, focusing on the middlemost sink. Indeed, a small image of a snake could be seen under the tap. Not wasting any time, he hissed a command to open and immediately went in, descending on a provided set of stairs.

The last time he was here, he had much more pressing matters to focus on, and so he wasn't able to properly admire the detailed engraving on the walls and columns. Once he was in the chamber proper, he just stood there for a while, simply soaking in the sights. Eventually, he decided to explore a little bit, from what Granger told him there was much more to this place than just the main chamber.

And indeed, there was. He found six luxurious, if a little antique-looking suite bedrooms, each bigger than his common room. There were several corridors, marked with a written parseltongue message meaning 'exit', which he decided to explore later on. The biggest treasure of all, right under the statue of Salazar Slytherin, there was an entrance to the library, full of ancient knowledge. Even a cursory glance at the titles and sections had Hadrian drooling. There were books from ancient Greece, ancient Egypt, Rome, and if he wasn't mistaken - even a section on - or from, he wasn't sure - Atlantis. He was quite certain, that if he managed to go through even a few of them, he would have far fewer problems if he was ever forced to fight.

Unfortunately, it wouldn't be all that easy, as he didn't know the language. He supposed that the books from ancient Rome would be easiest, as Latin was something he was quite proficient at, well, at least for a student. Ancient Egypt... and Atlantis... that would be a real challenge.

From his own research Hadrian knew, that linguistic spells were notoriously difficult to come up with, and then, to master. Even though there were many tries, nobody succeeded in creating an universal translation charm, and those that were available, only allowed to communicate through the speech; they lacked the power to translate a written language. So his options were limited: learn the language, or create the translating spell that nobody could come up with for centuries.

Piece a cake.

* * *

 **A/N:** This chapter was supposed to be slightly different, but I got inspired by the IwannaCry situation. For those of you confused about the prefect from the train, it will be explained in the next chapter. As always (even though I don't always write this), big thanks to my beta, haphne24 :)


	11. Chapter 11: Pangea

_Thanks to my beta, Haphne24!_

 **===#^#===**

 _"Either you kill him or I will kill all of you," a smiling Hermione Granger looked at him. He was sweating heavily, unsure what to do. He hated the blond buffoon, but it didn't mean that he wanted him dead. It seemed that he had no choice, that the choice was taken away from him. What she offered him was a mockery of a choice, kill or be killed; a no-brainer. If only he could do something, jump at her, stab her with this blade of hers..._

 _but she made precautions. He couldn't hurt her, not while she had his wand and was in the circle; he couldn't hurt her, period. He did the only rational thing he could, he took Lockhart's life. The moment he plunged the blade in the man's chest, the whole circle lit up, blinding him. He felt the man squirm and whimper silently, as he must have woken up when stabbed. Hadrian twisted the blade. Lockhart's sighed for the last time and stayed still. At the same moment, the runes at the edges of the circle flashed violently red, and then the whole circle faded._

 _Hadrian wondered, if he should be feeling something, anything. It was, after all, a ritual supposed to strengthen him, and yet, he didn't feel anything. Suddenly, he felt something akin to an electric shock go through him; it wasn't exactly painful, but he wouldn't call it pleasant either. Just as the shock subsided, his vision changed._

 _"You have greatly disappointed me, Harry, my boy," Dumbledore said, aiming his wand at him. Hadrian panicked; he was bound to a chair in the headmaster's office, while said man was circling around him like a vulture. "Did you really think something like this could be hidden by a mere kid? I am the most powerful wizard alive, no deception can fool me. You have gone too far, it's obvious that you are dark. I'm sorry my boy, but it's for your own good. You will be wearing this collar from now on, and it will let me control you to ensure that no such silliness will happen again. If you rebel, you will be subdued."_

 _Hadrian looked with horror at the man, visions of him bound like an animal flashing before his eyes. He wouldn't be bound; he wouldn't let him! Yet, he couldn't do anything._

 _"Mister Potter, you have been found guilty of all charges," a faceless wizard sitting on a high throne announced, as the chains moved and restrained Hadrian. "You will spend the rest of your life in Azkaban, with no possibility of parole."_

 _"Either you kill him, or I kill all of you," a smiling face of Hermione Granger looked at him._

 _"You will be wearing this collar from now on, and it will let me control you to ensure that no such silliness will happen again. And if you rebel, you will be subdued."_

 _"You will spend the rest of your life in Azkaban."_

Hadrian woke with a start, heavily sweating. He wasn't a stranger to these type of dreams, but he hoped they were the thing of a past. The last time he had a nightmare was at the beginning of a third year. It seemed, however, that it resurfaced now, because of the ransom situation. Once again, a choice has been taken away from him. He was faced with a situation, where he could either do something he had no desire to, or lose what was precious to him. He had no idea what the consequences would be. If he paid, it was possible he would still lose his possessions. The culprit could decide to simply collect the money and vanish, not willing to take the risk of being caught. The passphrase could not work; or maybe they would be inundated with the money at the last possible moment, and unable to give the passwords quick enough to all the victims.

It was also possible, that the curse breakers would find a solution before the time limit was up, and he would regain his possessions regardless of paying the ransom.

If he paid however, he would send a clear signal, he would mark himself as a great choice of a future ransom attacks. If he didn't, he risked losing the invisibility cloak, and several of his most prized, almost irreplaceable books, something that was absolutely unacceptable.

What to do?

 **===#^#===**

"Shacklebolt, report," an irate Amelia Bones barked. It was second evening of the DMLE's investigation into the Hogwarts' ransom situation, and so far, they had no leads. No student cracked under the pressure of multiple interrogations, castle's wards didn't record anything out of the ordinary, and there was no magical residue to track on any of the affected trunks. The curse breakers also couldn't discern anything. Usually, a skilled warder leaves some identifiable traces, a way in which spells and wards are interwoven together, coming from years of experience and certain magical mannerism. While it was possible to avoid leaving it while placing wards, if one was careful enough of course, it was almost unfathomable that someone could so expertly and quickly ward half the trunks in Hogwarts leaving nothing.

In desperation, Amelia Bones authorized a diplomatic envoy, accompanied by Kingsley Shacklebolt as her proxy, to negotiate a deal with goblins, in hopes of gaining some information on the owner of the vault #84920. She wasn't holding her breath though; goblins were traditionally difficult to deal with, and were likely to demand impossible concessions in return for little useful information.

"I'm sorry, Director," Kingsley sighed heavily. "We were turned down quickly. They claimed it's a professional secrecy matter, and under the treaty of 1785 they can't, and won't, disclose anything."

"Did you try suggesting we would pay?"

"We did, but their answer was, and I quote, 'your ministry doesn't have enough galleons to pay for what you are asking for'."

"It was worth a shot, I suppose," Madam Bones said. "We can't identify the owner through the goblins then. Can we trace the money, perhaps, and see who withdraws it or to whom is it transferred? Mister Finley?" She nodded in the direction of a small, older man in a glasses, sitting in a corner silently.

"It is impossible," he said curtly, and then became silent again, causing Amelia to roll her eyes.

"Could you please elaborate?" She asked patiently. She knew the man, and was well aware of his personal quirks.

"I could," Mister Finley nodded his consent, and looked at her intently.

"Please do," she sighed, almost imperceptibly.

"My department has run several scenarios, the goal of all being successfully tracing the deposited money. We tried the following methods," he said in a monotonous voice. "First, we put a tracking charm on a Galleon coin. Second, we put several other charms and their variations on a different coins. Third, we tried the Protean Charm. Fourth, we used blood magic. Fifth, we transfigured an imperiused animal into a coin. Six, we tried ordering a house elf to follow a specified coin. Seven, we used a variation of a summoning ritual, tweaked to point us in the direction of a holder instead of summoning an object. Eight, we contacted a professional seer. Nine, we tried various other methods, which you can read about in our report," he kept counting, extending his fingers accordingly. "Eventually it was time to test all of our hypothesis. We had to use a real Gringotts vault, as we are unable to reproduce the exact conditions the goblins have in the bank," he declared, to which Madame Bones gasped.

"You used a real vault? This could have caused an incident, a serious one!" She exclaimed shocked.

"No, it could not have," Finley disagreed, and then continued, as if she didn't interrupt him. "All our trials were unsuccessful. We were able to determine though, that just before the money is actually placed in one's vault, it is firstly intermixed with other transfers arriving or being withdrawn at roughly the same time; then, random coins are physically placed in the vault. This might be circumvented by putting the coins personally in the vault, but this obviously can be done only by the owner. Because of this mechanism in place, we can't track any transfers," he finished. "Oh, and we've lost two monkeys, Gringotts apparently doesn't like fake money very much."

This last revelation apparently was too much, as both Amelia and Kingsley simultaneously groaned.

 **===#^#===**

It took him a better part of Saturday's morning to decide that yes, he would pay. He would pay, but at the same time he would up his security, so that nothing like this happened ever again. He had access to Hogwarts' library, which held the biggest collection of ward-oriented light books on the Isles. He could ask the public library to send him copies of a specific books should he need one, be it dark or gray and he could also visit Slytherin's library, down in the Chamber. Granted, this would be tedious... but he was certain, that the wards he could find there would be unpassable.

Actually, the matter if he would pay or not wasn't problematic at all. What absorbed him for the longest time were the possible social consequences. He didn't want to appear weak. If he learnt one thing during his stay in Slytherin and Hogwarts, it was that one could not be seen as weak in the house of snakes. It wasn't even about being weak or not; it was all about the masks they wore. The last Slytherin Council's leader was, in terms of power and talent, a weakling. His magical core was average at best, he wasn't talented in any serious branch of magic (and let's be honest, specialty in crawling magical bugs didn't count) and his name held no sway at all in the greater world of politics. However, here in Hogwarts, he was respected and obeyed, because he knew how to present himself.

Paying the ransom without any further steps would be seen as a weakness, but what wouldn't? Hadrian knew that the majority of his house wouldn't buy any far-fetched tales about trying to catch the culprit this way. Simple admittance that he wasn't ready to part with his possessions also wouldn't do; it would be as good as admitting that he could be blackmailed again.

Finally, he decided to go with a risky approach, which could just work.

 **===#^#===**

Contrary to what he was showing outside of his office, Dumbledore was relatively content. Finally, after all those years of laying low, he could up his game again. True, all his carefully laid plans were thrown straight to the trash bin the moment he saw the Potter boy. He was nothing like he expected him to be. He was looking forward to seeing a smaller version of James Potter, a shy boy without many friends, looking to impress and gain many new friends. He was quite certain that the boy would land in Gryffindor, just like his parents, where he could, and would, be carefully watched during his education. The house of lions would truly be best choice for him; it would mold him, polish all his best qualities, creating a perfect hero... a perfect martyr, eventually. What the wizarding world got, was an independent boy, with an uncaring attitude, who really couldn't be bothered about such pesky things as friends or being a hero. What was even worse, he went straight to Slytherin.

His immediate reaction to this was, at best, sloppy. He managed to alienate the boy, treating him as if he was his protegee, his supporter through and through, clad in red and gold robes. He badly miscalculated; as a consequence, he had to pull back, pretend that he lost almost all his interest in the boy or risk losing him forever. For over a year, he did just that, making plans and contingencies to be implemented at the earliest possibility. He made sure to make them as inconspicuous as possible, so that it looked like there was nothing aloof.

Sirius Black was yet another worry. He knew, of course, that the man wasn't as guilty as he was made by the press and the then-administration, but incarcerating him suited his plans just fine. The last thing he needed was for the pure-blooded son of an ancient house to have any say in how Harry Potter is raised, which was exactly what would happen, as that was the Potters' will. Fortunately, Black's hot-headedness prevented this. Granted, he didn't see the trial of the man coming, by Harry's request no less! Which, by the way, raised some serious concerns about the boy's knowledge. He managed to get lucky once again, and convinced the man that he needed therapy before undertaking any responsibilities. Dumbledore took it upon himself to organize the best healers available, and insisted on a full-length therapy for ex-Azkaban prisoners, which took half a year. Black would be let go with the end of this year, and then, if Albus wasn't mistaken, his first steps would be to secure Harry's guardianship.

Which he didn't mind at all, now. Those few months allowed him to once again get on a good side of the man, convincing him that he couldn't do anything to help him earlier. Albus told him about all those years Sirius was imprisoned, concentrating on the last few, and more specifically, on Harry's life at Hogwarts. Albus placed a proper emphasis on the important parts; that the boy was Slytherin; that he was too independent for his own good; that he suspected the boy to dabble in the dark magic; that he dearly needed someone in his life to set limits and take care of him.

Sirius ate it all. He believed it was his fault that the boy was now walking a dark path because he wasn't in his life, and he vowed to right him. He even went as far as to swear an oath (alas only mundane) that he would do everything in his power to take a good care of his best friends' son. Albus was very happy with this declaration. He had experience working with people bound by oaths; manipulating them was very easy, as he would only have to present whatever action he desired to be a logical consequence of an oath taken.

Yes, everything was fine indeed. Hadrian - Albus scoffed, what a ridiculous name for a boy - would soon be Harry again, on a right path and completely under control, his control. And the best part was, he wouldn't suspect a thing till it was too late.

 **===#^#===**

"What are you doing?" came a curious question from the door of his room. Hadrian carefully finished writing a letter, and only then did he turned to Pansy standing next to the door. He once again checked her out, which the girl easily noticed. She didn't seem to mind, however; on the contrary, she shifted her position slightly to highlight her best features and smiled teasingly.

"I've just finished a letter to Gringotts," Hadrian told her. "I decided to pay the ransom for all the affected members of Slytherin house."

This revelation caused Pansy to blink rapidly, her teasing smile disappearing.

"How... Why?"

"Were it someone else, I'd given them a more political answer, but as you are my friend Pansy... think, why would I do that?" he pinned her with a stare, expecting her to work it out. Smartest witch of her age she might not be, but she still managed to land herself in Slytherin, so she had to be able to work such a simple scheme herself... eventually. The girl sat silently for a while, and just when Hadrian was about to drop a hint, her eyes went wide and she gasped.

"You'll get a favour from everyone," she exclaimed, to which Hadrian only smiled. "You will also keep your things intact, if the attacker keeps the word, without losing any rep in our house," she added, slightly astonished.

"Well... you said it perfectly," Hadrian smirked, and stood, placing his letter in an envelope. He had to hurry and send it as soon as possible, to make it before the deadline. He gestured for Pansy to leave with him, but the girl stood firm when he approached her.

"What kind of... favour do you want from me?" She asked, this teasing smile of hers appearing again. She licked her lips and traced a line on Hadrian's torso.

"We'll work something out, I'm sure," Hadrian managed to croak eventually, and then he bolted for the door. He liked teasing girls; but Merlin, he had no idea that it was so horrifying to be on the receiving end.

 **===#^#===**

Not many wizards knew that the main Gringotts branch in Diagon Alley, London, wasn't the only place in Britain that allowed customers to do business with the bank. Yes, it was the biggest one and the only one that allowed access to the vaults, but if a person wanted to only make a small money withdrawal or deposit, or discuss their holdings, Gringotts had a small office in Hogsmeade Village and in the city of Edinburgh. Not many wizards knew, but he wasn't one of them. Of course he knew; how could he not? It was the Edinburgh office that he chose on this day; it offered the greatest anonymity and was almost empty, not counting goblins of course.

He confidently strode to the closest cashier, and activated a privacy ward. Yet another feature that not many of his kin knew about; each stand in Gringotts, branch irrespective, had a localised privacy ward for the clients, who only had to tap their wand on the marble countertop.

"Can I help you?" the teller asked, bored.

"Yes, you can. Please give me the overview of my account, vault number 84920. Please make sure to include the history of incoming transfers," the wizard requested.

"Wait here," came the gruff reply. The goblin didn't leave his seat however, which led to an awkward staring contest. Finally, after about five minutes of silence, the goblin spoke again. "Here is the report," he said, producing the requested piece of paper, seemingly out of thin air. "The appropriate fee has been taken from your account."

"Thank you, this will be all. Good day," the customer said and promptly left the bank, making sure that his notice-me-not charm was still active. He looked over the list, raising one brow when he saw the title of Potter's transfer. Well, it seemed that the Slytherin house would be the only one that wouldn't suffer any material losses. Other houses wouldn't be so lucky; it saddened him slightly that his attack would _liquify_ his own family's assets a bit, but oh well, with all the money he made he would buy all they lost back, brand new. Now he had to act quickly; the curse wouldn't activate till wednesday, he made sure of that, but it wouldn't do to dawdle. He entered the post office, paid for a post owl's services and quickly assembled a letter.

This was probably the most difficult part, coming up with a way to reveal the passwords to the locked trunks without endangering himself. Finally, after considering many ways, including anonymous letters to the victims, correspondence through Gringotts, Patronus message and even a return transfer of one sickle with the password as a transfer's title, he came up with the best, and a very simple to boot, method. He would send a message to the Prophet, asking that the passwords be printed in the press; by now the whole thing was widely covered in the media, so he was sure that they would comply.

The best part? He could do so completely anonymously, because the Prophet established a secure, non-trackable dropbox, where people could send anything they wanted, without the fear of being tracked. It allowed many whistleblowers to uncover shady government's actions, and now it would be a perfect way to keep his end of the bargain. A forced bargain, true, but a bargain nonetheless.

 **===#^#===**

"RANSOM CRISIS OVER? WE HAVE PASSWORDS", shouted the front page of Sunday's Daily Prophet cover. As soon as Hadrian saw it, he hurried out of the Great Hall. And he wasn't the only one; every person that found themselves on the list practically run to their locked trunks, hoping that it wasn't a prank, making the Great Hall practically deserted.

Heir Potter entered his room, locked the door behind himself, cast a strong shield - it wouldn't do to be hit by the liquefying curse - and reached with his magic.

"Pangea", he clearly stated the password. Immediately he felt a surge of magic. He braced himself, worrying that a backlash could happen, but then, to his immense relief, the alien magic dissipated, and he heard a silent 'click' announcing that the trunk was now open.

Not every person attacked was so lucky, however.

 **#^#**

"Come on you stupid thing," Ron Weasley kicked his trunk. He has already tried half of the passwords from the list in the hopes, that some of them were used on more than one trunk. "Australia! New Zealand! Tunisia! Just fucking open! Pangea!" he suddenly stopped, when he heard ominous hissing from the inside.

 **===#^#===**

 **A/N:** Hey guys, I'm so sorry for the delay! It's just that my life, in the previous month, was a very real proof that when it rains, it pours. Long story short, I got screwed up on a house I was supposed to move into (which I earlier helped to renovate), consequently becoming homeless (sic) for a few short days of hectic search for a new place, then had to move all my things thrice (previous place = the place I thought I'd move to = a friend's place = new home), clean the new place, unpack, and all this while trying to maintain the semblance of normal life. Anyway, now I'm good again and back to writing, so you can expect updates at a pace you are accustomed to (weekly or bi-weekly at most).

 **A/N2** : I am aware that some of you might find the content I'm starting to include undesired (teasing, sexual undertones etc.); what I can say to that, well, Hadrian is now 14yo, as are all his friends. They are sequestered in a boarding school; add to this mix a fact that wizards and witches mature a little bit faster than mundanes, and voila. It's a fair warning - such themes (and even bolder ones), while not predominant, will be present in the story, the rating "M" is for a reason.

 **A/N3** : Yes, this chapter was a bit of a filler; we're going back to the fourth year next chapter. And yes, I know I promised to explain the prefect from the train, but ultimately decided to push him to one of the next chapters, as it will be a major plot line. :)


	12. Chapter 12: Mudblood

**Chapter 1** **2: Mudblood**

The public outcry at the news that almost fifty percent of Hogwarts' students lost their belongings shook the very foundations of the ministry. The post office reported an unprecedented influx of howlers, angry letters and nasty bewitched, or otherwise harmful, packages addressed to every top-level ministry official. It got so bad, that after only three hours of work, it was declared that the ministry was closed for the rest of the day bar the most urgent matters, and all hands were redirected to deal with the mail flood.

At roughly the same time, elves at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry also had their little hands full. As soon as the first angry howler arrived during breakfast, accusing him of going senile and being unable to protect his students, Headmaster Dumbledore activated a special ward redirecting all letters addressed to him or the institution to a special room, where it could be safely stored until checked for any surprises. That it was completely soundproof was a bonus, considering the love the wizarding public had for howlers.

Even Gringotts didn't manage to go completely scot-free as some individuals assumed that the goblins must have been a part of the conspiracy because they refused to give away the identity of the culprit. The warrior race didn't pull any punches though, and as soon as the first angry customer barged in to give the goblins an earful, he immediately regretted it when informed that his fees for keeping his money in the bank would now be doubled or tripled, if he didn't leave immediately.

When the news got around that goblins would punish those overly vocal, many hurried to - hopefully - stop their letters from being sent to the bank.

It was rather interesting Wednesday morning in Wizarding Britain.

 **===#^#===**

Wednesday was also the day, when it was decided that theory lessons at Hogwarts would be suspended until Monday, to give those that lost their possessions time to buy new books and writing utensils. The faculty didn't dare to postpone practical lessons as well, because this school year would already be fully-packed, with the Triwizard Tournament, and they needed every hour available to teach students what they needed for their exams.

For Hadrian and his year, it meant that that they would get Moody first thing after the breakfast. He was curious, with all the rumours circulating about the man. Would he bully children of the known death eaters? Would he hex them randomly during the lesson? Would he be any good, allowing them to learn something?

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" roared the man in question, walking into the classroom and causing several students to jump in fear at the unexpected noise. "Well, why don't you have your wands ready?" he barked, while stomping to the front of the room. "The way I see it, you all would be dead if I wanted to launch a surprise attack. I know your education here was abysmal, but you should know the basics by heart! It should be your instinct! _Expelliarmus_! You are dead, Malfoy! What did I tell you about constant vigilance? You don't know me, for all you know I could be an impersonator trying to kill you all!" he ranted, with many wide eyes following his movements. "Let's set some rules, what do you say? Rule number one: expect the unexpected! Rule number two: If I attack you, don't hesitate to fight back! I assure you, whatever you can throw at me, it won't be enough to harm me! Rule number three, for ignoring rule number two, you will find yourself in detention! You do not want to have detentions with me, unless you like to be hexed! Any questions?" Moody looked around the classroom. Seeing none, he swiftly aimed his wand in the general direction of the classroom and fired a tickling charm, which promptly hit Amy McMahon.

"You girl, are dead! I hit you with _Rictusempra_ , but you didn't know this! Silver colour could also mean any number of serious hexes, blood boiling curse included! CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he finished with a roar.

Hadrian looked wide-eyed at the mayhem that this class turned into. Whatever he expected, this wasn't it. Moody, while certainly knowledgeable, seemed to also be completely unstable. Good thing that he restrained himself to firing mostly non-dangerous spells, but it was only their first lesson with the man. By the end of the year, they would either all be proficient warriors… or dead. He ended his musings when it seemed that their teacher calmed down a little, and sat behind his desk.

"What do you know about unforgivables?" The ex-auror asked. "Weasley, go ahead."

"The worst curses ever, right? You can go to Azkaban for using them."

"Essentially correct, at least when it comes to the Azkaban part. I'd be cautious when calling them the worst curses ever. In fact, I'd rather be killed with a quick Avada Kedavra than with an organ-expelling curse, and I'd rather take Cruciatus than have my blood boiled, with the combination of blood-freezing charm, for hours," he mused, not paying even the slightest attention to the rapidly paling students. "No, they are definitely not the worst. We will go back to this point later. Now, can anyone tell me what those two curses do, and name the last one? Yes, Mr. Thomas?" He nodded to the dark-skinned boy.

"Avada kedavra is a killing curse and the cruciatus causes pain. The last one controls a person... It's something like... Emporio?" he finished uncertain.

"Imperius," Moody nodded. "You are correct, Mr. Thomas, take five points. Now, I have here," he took a big glass jar, with a moderately sized spider inside, "a spider. I will demonstrate the unforgivables for you. Normally, I wouldn't do so, but I've managed to obtain a permission from the ministry. Watch carefully. _Imperio!_ " he said, while pointing his wand at the arachnid, which promptly started to dance. Some students started laughing, but one look from Moody silenced them.

"You think it funny, having to do anything you are ordered to? Being a prisoner in your own body, unable to resist order to slain your entire family? Well, I don't think so. _Crucio!_ " he yelled suddenly, and the spider started writhing in an obvious pain. Moody kept it under it for a few seconds, and then ended its life with the killing curse.

"Those three curses are considered to be especially dangerous." He started speaking to a deadly silent class. "Not because they can cause harm, no. Many others can, and they don't carry life sentence in Azkaban as unforgivables do. It's not the matter of intent, even though many people in the ministry, or even your headmaster, would like you to believe. It's not true that to use them, one has to be dark, or willing to do harm. In fact, each of the unforgivables might be used to do something good. For example," he raised his hand to forestall protests. "The killing curse might be used to defend others from a terrorist or to relieve a terminally ill patient from suffering. Imperius could be used to prevent a person from committing suicide or carrying out a terror attack. Cruciatus curse was used as a mean to restart a patient's heart in St. Mungo's," he counted. "No, the real reason is that you can't shield yourself against them with magical means. There is no magical shield or a technique that would work if confronted with an unforgivable directly. Spell swatting won't work, most wards will let them through, and spell-resistant clothes won't help you. The only possible way of defending yourself is to use a physical barrier, either existing one or a conjured," he explained, and then promptly yelled, "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" sending a stinging hex towards Hadrian, who managed to duck before returning fire. Distantly, he heard a yelp from behind him, but he was too engrossed in trying to shield against Moody to pay attention. Ultimately, it took five minutes of an ad hoc duelling before Hadrian got hit by a stunner. Cautiously, the rest of the students raised from their makeshift bunkers made out of their bags and desks, trying to assess the situation; just in time to be hit by a powerful, area-wide stunner.

 **#^#**

"Completely bonkers, I told you so!" ranted Draco, when they were walking down the defense corridor. "I just can't believe it, why can't Dumbledore for once find a competent teacher? Am I really asking for so much, a professor that wouldn't be a peacock, a werewolf or a crazy ex-auror trying to kill us?"

"Well, to be fair, Quirrell was a good teacher," Hadrian said. "Actually, I asked him at the end of the last year if he could teach us again, but he was reluctant. Shame..." he sighed, and sighed again as they passed by the infamous Gryffindor trio, Weasley, Finnegan and Longbottom. It was clear they were scheming; and he was sure it wouldn't lead to anything good, based on their previous 'adventures'. For now, as they had no more lessons, he wanted to go back to his dorm and finish reading a book on the history of Triwizard Tournament.

 **#^#**

The Triwizard Tournament was abandoned several centuries ago, as the death toll mounted too high. In absolute numbers, it stood at 37 dead throughout the tournament history; fourteen from Beauxbatons, fifteen from Hogwarts and only eight from Durmstrang. The reason for such statistically significant difference was simple: Durmstrang inflicted the most damage upon other champions, attacking them in-between the tasks, taking advantage of their status as a diplomatic envoys (and thus, under immunity till the end of the Tournament) and the fact, that direct attacks were not prohibited by the rules. While an Avada Kedavra happened only twice, there were several recorded instances of "third-party induced drownings" and at least one Beauxbatons' champion fell prey to an angry Acromantula that somehow managed to cross the wards right next to the french delegation.

Pondering about this, Hadrian realized that the arrival for Beauxbatons and Durmstrang delegations was scheduled for this Sunday.

 **===#^#===**

"I call this friday's session to order!" announced chairman Diggory. When the ruckus subsided a little bit, he continued. "Thank you. We originally were supposed to discuss the Quidditch proposal by representatives Malfoy and Weasley and the proposal to declare the word 'mudblood' as offensive and banned in school. However, it has been brought to my attention that there is an urgent matter that we should attend to as soon as possible. Namely, two of our representatives from Gryffindor, Weasley and Longbottom, have been punished harshly for their actions, and it is the request of their head of house, Professor McGonagall, that their immunity be repealed. I must confess that I have no idea what this is about, so without further ado I give the floor to Professor McGonagall. Professor?"

The Deputy Headmistress gracefully rose from her chair and approached the lectern, where she started talking immediately.

"Yes, thank you. I'm here today because it is my sincere belief that the two boys in question, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Longbottom must be punished for their actions yesterday. I'm loath to describe such events publically, but as in this case it is also their wish to be evaluated by peers, by you, I shall start from the beginning.

Yesterday afternoon, Professor Moody was leaving his classroom, having finished with lessons for the day. He managed to lock the door, when he was unexpectedly attacked by three students, whom he later identified as Longbottom, Weasley and Finnegan. The fight, if I can call it so, lasted for no more than a minute; as soon as all three boys were stunned, Professor Moody called for my assistance. After they woke up, they told us that they were certain that Professor Moody is an impostor, trying to do some, and I quote, _nasty dark_ _business_. As their reason for attack was, eh, noble, we won't push for them to be expelled. However, I believe that detention every Monday for the rest of the term is a sound punishment, one I'd like to see happening. Thank you," she finished and left the stand. At the end of her tale, many students were groaning disbelievingly. Just by looking at their reactions one could guess on how would the vote go.

"Thank you, Professor. Now, I believe, we need to hear the accused party? Representatives Weasley and Longbottom, will each of you provide a statement, or will one speak for the both of you?"

The two boys looked at each other and started talking quietly. After a while their discussion got heated, and it was obvious they wouldn't reach an agreement any time soon.

"Well?" Cedric drawled, raising his brow. "If you can't decide, you shall speak individually, is that okay?"

"It is," Ron angrily said. "I just wanted to say that I'm convinced something is wrong with Moody. He is supposed to be an auror, catching dark wizards, and no auror would ever show us unforgivables or attack us. He constantly sips from his flask; I bet that's where he keeps his polyjuice potion!" he finished heatedly, pointing accusingly at the teacher, who - as if mocking him - took a slow sip from his flask. Seeing this, Professor McGonagall decided to stand up and speak again.

"Just to clarify, I have personally checked Professor's Moody flask, and it most certainly is not a polyjuice potion. He has also kindly agreed to stay under supervision for over an hour to prove his identity. Thank you."

"Thank you, Professor. Representative Weasley, is that all or would you like to say something else?"

Ronald, now almost burgund from anger, made his first wise decision within 24 hours, and decided to stay silent and sit down. Seeing this, Cedric motioned for Neville Longbottom to speak up.

"I... I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. I got carried away under a... bad influence; I'm not going to fight the punishment." Neville declared silently, and sat.

"Well, in that case we will now vote on Ronald Weasley. I'm not really in the mood for prolonged formalities, so just touch the proper stone. As we are here on the request of Professor McGonagall, we will vote whether to allow a punishment. So touch the white stone if you want Mr. Weasley to be punished, or black if you think that immunity should be upheld. Mr. Weasley, Mr. Longbottom, you are both not eligible to vote on this matter. Please, vote now, thank you. The votes are, well, quite unanimous. All for allowing the punishment. Professors, I'll have a formal approval of your request prepared and delivered to you as soon as this session ends," Cedric said, looking at the deputy headmistress, who in turn nodded primly.

"Now, I believe, is the correct moment to discuss the proposition to ban certain word. I know many of you would rather talk about Quidditch..." he trailed, to several laughs. "However, as Quidditch season doesn't normally starts by now anyway, we can postpone that discussion for another day. I now give the floor to representative Granger, who kindly agreed to sponsor this proposal."

 _Well, this is going to be fun_ , Hadrian thought, while Granger made her way to the lectern. She cleared her throat and started speaking in a business like manner.

"Thank you. Each and every one of you know the word 'mudblood'. It is one of the most widespread offensive and derogatory word, one that has absolutely no positive connotations. It can't be argued that it is otherwise neutral word that has been given bad publicity, as it is, even at the most basic linguistic level, aimed to demean people, describing them as possessing bad, dirty, mudded blood, usually in opposition to so called pure-bloods. You also can't really argue that it is so widespread as to not cause offence; it is still seen, by the majority of population, as an invective. Even those that normally have no qualms about using it, usually refrain from doing so in the so called 'polite presence', during balls or other official events where they are acting in their capacity as, say, an heir to the house or a lord even.

You could, probably, point out that what I'm aiming for is a censorship. And you would be right, it really is. Ask yourself this: would you like to be singled out, ridiculed and insulted based on your height, weight, skin color, or ethnicity? I doubt it. In fact, I've consulted it with several professors; if one of you were to call someone 'fatty', 'ape', 'coon', 'nigger', 'chink' or 'paki', this would cause severe and immediate responses, because even though there is nothing in the rules that says specifically about using those words, they are generally seen as offensive. Yet, 'mudblood', is a problem?" She was speaking passionately, and it was clear many agreed with her. "Respectable members, I have prepared a simple proposal of a new school law for you, which you can read as it is in your packets for today's session. If passed, it would subject anyone using this disgusting word, or any derivatives, to disciplinary action at the teacher's discretion. Thank you."

"Thank you representative Granger. Well, I believe it's time for discussion, so... yes, I see you Mr. Malfoy, you are second, right after representative Turpin. Miss Turpin?"

The discussion was very heated, with several breaks necessary to allow some cooling down. As expected, the dark faction was dead set on striking down this proposal, while those generally associated with light side were trying to enforce their vision of school without slurps. Eventually, feeling that he heard most of the arguments, Hadrian decided to speak up himself.

"Members of the Council, you have provided us all with many important points to consider. What I'd like to say now is, to be honest, only loosely related to the word 'mudblood', as I'm going to talk about the broader picture. As Hermione kindly noted, her proposition is, basically, censorship. While in general I can't disagree that 'mudblood' shall not be used, I can't agree with the proposed method. You see, once we start targeting specific words or phrases, it really is an inclined plane. We ban the word 'mudblood', and some will start using it just to rebel against the censorship, while others will think of a different word. You have put sort of a failsafe for such contingency, writing about derivatives, but how far can we go? If those willing to use slurps start calling people 'dirty blooded', will this be considered derivative? And if they come up with 'dirties' or something similar? And what if they'll begin using word 'muggleborns' - but with enough venom and contempt that it will sound as an invective, what then? Will you try to ban modulating one's voice?

Members of the Council, while I recognize honourable, and genuinely good intentions of those behind this project, I say the methods are very, very wrong, and I ask that you vote against it. Thank you."

And just like that, another round of yelling started, until, finally, Cedric had enough. He let a loud bang out of his wand, calling all present to attention.

"I doubt we will achieve anything by prolonging this discussion. I'd like to ask representative Granger: would you like for the vote to be held now, or would you rather we cool down a little and reassemble tomorrow for the vote?"

Hermione looked conflicted for a moment, obviously trying to assess what will be better. Eventually, she nodded her head resolutely and asked for the vote.

"Very well. You all know the rules; I think it will be beneficial if this vote is also secretive, so no putting your hands in the air, just tap the correct stone. White if you are for banning the word 'mudblood', and black if you are against. Vote now."

The air was so thick with tension that it was almost palpable. What lasted only few seconds in reality, seemed like much longer for all those present. Finally, the results came.

"The results are as follows: ten votes for the new law, and eleven against. The law is struck down. I believe that's enough for today, we will reassemble tomorrow at 6 pm to talk about the Quidditch proposal and several petitions from the students. Thank you and have a good night."

 **#^#**

Hermione Granger was fuming. She was certain that her proposal was reasonable and well presented; she had not expected any opposition apart from the die-hard traditionalists. She was very tempted to blame it all on Hadrian; she saw faces of several members while he was talking, how they changed their decision then and there. That would be counterproductive, so she decided to polish her arguments, make her proposed piece more precise and try again soon; this was, after all, a very important proposal, and she would do everything to make it law.

 **#^#**

To no one's surprise, the following day wasn't even half so heated. The Quidditch proposal was accepted by almost everyone, decreeing that a Quidditch tournament would happen at Hogwarts, rules to be exactly the same as during the normal School Cup. Several different petitions were also filed, but none of them contained anything even remotely interesting, and they were quickly taken care of, to the relief of all assembled, including Cedric, who promptly closed this session and left.

 **===#^#===**

"Attention everyone. Be prepared in ten minutes sharp, the whole school will greet the arriving guests outside," barked Professor Snape as soon as he strode into the Slytherin's common room.

"Professor, but they are not due for another two hours, and it's raining," some bold third-year whined. The Potions Master's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"It's the headmaster's decision, Mr. Afleck. You will do as you are told."

"I think not, professor," Hadrian's voice carried out from across the room, as he started approaching his head of house. "It is Sunday, so no classes, it is nothing to do with the security of the school or safety of the students, and, as Mr. Afleck correctly stated, _it is raining_. As per the rules, extracurricular activities - which this event is - are completely voluntary, and I, for one, am not going to volunteer, professor."

Severus Snape suddenly saw white. Oh how he loathed this boy, how he would like to take him down a peg! Unfortunately, the kid knew the rules by heart, and he could hardly do anything, especially now, that he had that blasted immunity. However, Severus was nothing if not patient. He would wait, but for now...

"Potter, do whatever you want; I don't care. The rest of you, I suggest that you all _voluntee_ _r o_ r there will be consequences," he finished and quickly left, with his trademark billowing robes. Hadrian raised one brow and departed for his room.

 **#^#**

"That was very impressive, Hadrian," a female voice purred from the direction of the door. Hadrian spun around; he was just about to start reading the book about linguistic charms, taking advantage of an empty common room and some peace, hoping to find something that would help him with translation of Salazar Slytherin's hidden library. There, in the doorway, stood Pansy Parkinson.

"Pansy, what are you doing here?" he asked, genuinely surprised to see her. She was never a stickler to the rules, but to so boldly disobey their head of house, and that without the immunity, well, it was almost Gryffindorishly brave... or stupid.

"I got bored standing and soaking there. Nobody checks what's going on, and with the mass of students, I doubt I'll be missed," she explained, making her way to him. "You know Hadrian, I really think that the way you spoke out against Professor Snape was very impressive and brave," and there it was again, purring. Hadrian couldn't help but become slightly enticed with the way the girl was walking towards him.

"You think so?"

"Oh yes. And I think that you deserve some sort of a reward," she said, sitting on his lap.

 _Ah, why the hell not?_

 **#^#**

The snogging session was long enough, that when Hadrian and Pansy finished, they decided to head for the general vicinity of the great hall, in hopes of intercepting the mass of students coming back from the ceremony.

"Pansy, just so that we are perfectly clear, this means nothing, right?" Hadrian said, trying to sound nonchalant and failing miserably.

"Of course," the girl agreed easily. "As I said, that was a reward, no strings attached. I'm not interested in any kind of relationship anytime soon anyway," she added a while after.

"That's good, 'cause that's exactly the way I feel; I don't think I'm gonna be any good with this relationship things," he admitted. "I'm certainly open to flings, because hell, why not?"

"Yeah, Potter, why not?" Pansy answered, winking at him. Just then they heard the unmistakable sound of a crowd approaching, and they joined it. It was a surprisingly pleasant way to spend a welcoming ceremony.


	13. Chapter 13: Diggory's plea

**FAV, FOLLOW & REVIEW**

 _Thanks to my beta, Haphne24_

* * *

 **Chapter 11: Diggory's plea**

"Now, let me introduce the impartial judge that will decide the worthy champions, the Goblet of Fire!" Dumbledore announced grandly, gesturing to the doors. There, slightly out of breath, stood caretaker Filch with an ancient looking if unremarkable wooden cup. He puffed and hastened to place the goblet on the pedestal prepared beforehand. Once it was done, the Headmaster continued.

"Those wanting to participate have to prepare a piece of paper with your credentials: full name and your school. Once done, give it to the Goblet; it will evaluate your magic and choose the worthiest. However, once chosen, there is no turning back, as the Goblet binds participants in a magical contract so think thrice, if you are willing to compete!" He warned all students, and was pleased to note that most of them took his warning seriously. He was almost about to sit down, but then he remembered. "On a side note, I've already drawn an age line to prevent anyone below the age of 17 from participating; please, don't try to cheat it," he said, looking straight at the Weasley twins, who at the moment looked the epitome of innocence. "Now, tuck in!" he exclaimed happily, and followed his own order with passion.

 **#^#**

"It is my great pleasure to announce that the Triwizard Tournament has officially begun! And from now on, till tomorrow evening, the Goblet will accept applications. Please heed my warning... And good luck!"

 **#^#**

The next 24 hours were not as interesting as one might have expected. There were no frantic whispers, trying to speculate on who is going to enter; those submitting their names were usually alone, without entourage of friends, and only few bets were placed here and there. Of course, it would be lie to say, that there was no tension whatsoever. Especially those wishing to participate were nervous to borderline giddy as en evening approached. There were few incidents with younger students trying to approach the goblet, but it seemed that the age line was well done; it even managed to stop an attempt by the Weasley twins, who as a result ended up with very long beards.

Finally, the moment of truth arrived. The lights dimmed, and Dumbledore approached the Goblet.

"It is almost time," he announced. "Only a few minutes left. So if there is anyone left that would like to participate, it's your last chance." To no one's surprise, everyone stayed seated. Then, punctually at 8 pm, the fire in the Goblet flared, rapidly but fluently changing colours from green to purple.

"The Goblet has chosen, and we will now learn the names of our champions. First, we will learn who will compete from Beauxbatons, then Durmstrang and finally Hogwarts. The Beauxbatons Champion is..." Dumbledore looked at the artefact expectantly, but it decided that being cooperative is overrated and stayed stubbornly still. Just when the aged Headmaster was beginning to suspect that something has broken, the Goblet spat a piece of paper.

"Ah, yes. As I was saying, the Beauxbatons Champion is... Fleur Delacour!"

Hadrian looked at the beautiful blond girl that stood gracefully from the Ravenclaw table, to the thunderous applause both from her own schoolmates and other schools. Not surprisingly, the most enthusiastic fans were boys.

"The Champion from Durmstrang is... Viktor Krum!" Continued Dumbledore, to an even louder applause if at all possible. Krum, being who he was, didn't seem too affected by the crowd's reaction; he simply waved and nonchalantly walked to the antechamber.

"Finally, our very own, Hogwart's Champion, is... Cedric Diggory!"

Hadrian cheered with all other students. Cedric was a good choice, if he was frank. Quite knowledgeable, always finishing his exams in top 10 of the school, and what was perhaps even more important, Cedric was a Champion that the whole school could support.

"Congratulations to all of you! Now that we know all the champions, we can..." suddenly Dumbledore looked sharply at the Goblet, which seemed to become active once again, instead of going dormant as it should have. The whole hall quieted down, and so it was with complete silence instead of applause that Hadrian found himself making way to the antechamber, after Dumbledore announced _another_ contestant, 'Hadrian Potter'.

 **#^#**

"What is it, Hadrian? Do they want us to come back?" asked Cedric curiously when he saw Hadrian enter the chamber.

"Hardly," the young heir spat, disgust clearly visible on his face. "Apparently they were unable to..."

Whatever he was going to say got interrupted, as at the exact moment the chamber's door got thrown open and in walked several agitated wizards, loudly arguing with each other.

"That is preposterous Dumbledore! You can't arbitrarily decide to add another champion from your school! If I had known of this beforehand, I'd have insisted on allowing another student from Durmstrang to compete or withdrawn altogether," Karkaroff boomed.

"Oui Dumbuhldaire, ai am most disappointed as well! How could you allow zis to 'appen, espécial-lee when you explicit-lee declaiaiyaired zat non studént below ze aje of 17 would bé allowed to éntair?" Madame Maxime agreed, angry enough to forget of keeping her accent in check.

"I assure you, my dear friends..." Dumbledore started, only to be interrupted again. Hadrian looked at them dispassionately, glad to be temporarily left alone. He knew this wouldn't last, but for now it allowed him some time to think.

He knew, of course, that there was a plot aimed at him. Barty Crouch Junior told him as much several months back, under an oath. Given the way he obtained this piece of knowledge though, Hadrian couldn't very well go and ask authorities for help. He suspected that Moody might have been compromised, as was the original plan, but he abandoned this trail of thought once it was proven publicly that the paranoid ex-auror was not being impersonated. He was also reading tons of books on wards, trying to come up with a way to ward the goblet himself. He even managed to come up with a temporary ward that could distinguish what was written on a piece of paper and banish it, but he wasn't able to cast it properly on the goblet; it was obvious that the age-line wasn't the only protection put in place as his own magic dissipated almost instantly after being cast. The only thing left to him was hoping that the original plan would have to be put on hold or at least changed with the disappearance of Crouch Junior. It seemed nothing had changed, which begged the question: who else was with the Dark Lord, who was aiding him? Crouch told him specifically, and under veritaserum, that he was the only person in contact with Voldemort. Obviously, it was no longer the case...

He was suddenly pulled from his musing when Snape shook him harshly.

"Well, Potter? Answer the question boy," he barked.

"What question?" Hadrian blinked, and then immediately schooled his features.

"We were asking why did you put your name, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore supplied rather gently.

"I didn't," came the earnest answer. From the looks everybody were giving him it was obvious, that he wasn't believed. Seeing their attitude, Hadrian decided to stay silent unless directly asked... and unless speaking up benefited him somehow.

"He eez obvious-lee lying," Fleur Delacour sniffed, to which her Headmistress nodded primly.

"Ze boy probab-lee yairns attenshe-on et came up wiv zis to be een lé spotlights," the giant woman added.

"I can't believe this," a silent voice of Cedric Diggory cut through. "I thought we were friends, Hadrian. I didn't think you would sink so low; I'm very disappointed. I'll be calling to strip you of your SC membership, you disgrace our school," he clipped, gradually raising his voice.

"Now, Mister Diggory, there is no need to be angry," Dumbledore said soothingly, trying to calm the badger boy down.

"Well, I believe there is! He knew all along about the Tournament, knew about the rules! He had time to prepare to cheat, I suppose it is true after all, you can't change a snake! I can't believe this; I can't believe you. You are an asshole you know?" Cedric exclaimed.

"Really mature, Diggory," murmured Hadrian, not able to resist gibing.

"That's quite enough," Dumbledore decided to stop the squabble. "Mister Potter, I'm going to ask once again. Did you, or did you not enter your name? By that I also mean ask a fellow student to put it in the chamber, confound the artefact or, indeed, use any other way to accomplish being chosen."

"I did not," he repeated clearly. "It was never my intention to compete, and I have no desire nor wish to do so."

"If you say so," Hogwarts' Headmaster sighed, clearly not convinced. "Be that as it may, the goblet has chosen you; this means that you are now bound by the magical contract, and must compete. If you don't, you will lose your magic," he declared. "Mister Crouch and Mister Bagman, I believe it is time to give the instructions to the champions."

"It's easy, really," began an excited Bagman. "The first task will take place on the 24th November. It is meant to test your daring and knowledge in the face of the unknown, so no further details will be provided. Barty, was there anything else?"

"That would be all, Ludo. We will now depart, as there is nothing else for us to do here. Have a good night," Bartemius Crouch bowed stiffly and quickly left, followed by a grinning Bagman.

"Yes, we will not keep you any longer," Dumbledore agreed. "You may return to your residences, I am sure that your friends are awaiting your return. Further information on other Tournament events will be provided to you soon."

 **===#^#===**

Dumbledore sighed heavily, sitting in his office this evening. He wasn't expecting this, as it was totally out of character for the Potter boy to behave so. Cheating the goblet to compete in a dangerous tournament was, dare he say it, positively Gryffindor thing to do, and consequently something he most assuredly would not suspect the boy to do. In front of him was lying the proof - a handwritten full name of the Potter heir, next to an imagined, fourth school. He has also managed to inspect the goblet for alien magical signatures, and found several traces of the boy's magic. It wasn't a conclusive proof, more like a conjecture based on solid clues, but it was enough for him.

The aged headmaster didn't know what to think about this newest development. In general, it was worrying, as it was yet another proof of the boy's independence, which was - obviously - undesired. On the other hand, this could present him with a new opportunity to get close to the boy, especially if the school would shun him. He knew it was a real possibility since Diggory's behaviour was a clear indication of that. He would have to think things through carefully.

 **#^#**

"That asshole!" exclaimed Ronald Weasley, once all the Gryffindors were back in their common room. "Fucking glory-seeking psychopath! Did you see his face when he was chosen? No emotions; it isn't normal, I tell you!" he ranted, to the general chorus of agreeing mutterings and nods.

"He's a disgrace, but what can you expect from the slimy snakes?" some more boisterous younger student exclaimed.

"The rotten egg I tell you," Neville Longbottom said sadly. "He should have been here, with us. Something must have obviously gone wrong somewhere, and now Potter is going dark," he asserted.

"Hear, hear!"

 **#^#**

"Cedric, what happened there? How did Potter become a champion?" asked Hannah Abbott, obviously chosen by the house to be their spokesperson.

"He's a disgusting cheater, that's how," Cedric spat furiously. "You should have seen him there, lying through his teeth that he didn't want to be a champion. As if! I can't believe I thought he was a decent person, argh!" he yelled frustrated.

"Was he punished?" Hannah asked.

"That's the worst part, nobody even told him off. No points lost, no detention, and no suspension... It's as if the school condones cheating; I feel like they spat in my face," he said bitterly.

"Well...if they won't punish him, maybe we should do something about that?" Justin Finch-Fletchley proposed, hesitant.

"Yes, we won't tolerate this affront to our house and Cedric. We are Hufflepuff, we help each other", stated Susan Bones.

The following night, many plans were devised.

 **#^#**

"I wonder how he did that," Padma Patil wondered. In Ravenclaw, the choice of Potter to be the fourth champion was met rather with curiosity than hostility. "I mean, many of us tried to bypass the age line, how could he do that?"

"Eh, he is Slytherin, he probably used some mind magic on unsuspecting seventh year Hufflepuff or something to put his name in the goblet. Who cares?" some fellow Raven dismissed the matter.

"Well, I don't think it's wise to ignore it. Most of the school will probably turn against him and it will be expected of us to do so too," noted Lisa Turpin.

"Why should we?"

"We are the wise ones, you dimwit and it won't be wise to stand against other houses," she reasoned, to which most of her housemates nodded.

 **#^#**

"Yes, I agree; I'm terribly disappointed in him," Minerva admitted, sipping slowly her tea. The three heads of houses plus Poppy Pomfrey met in the headmistress' office to discuss the situation. The general consensus was that Hadrian was guilty of cheating, which saddened all present. "I just can't believe that the son of James and Lily could sink so low..."

"It was evident that he wouldn't be following in their footsteps when he went to Slytherin," Pomona Sprout voiced her opinion. "All the Slytherins are, I'm sad to say, disturbed in one way or another or more than one, actually. He must have been living for far too long with his fame. It's not really all that difficult to fathom that he would try anything to get more of it," she asserted.

"How are we going to treat him?" Filius finally decided to broach the inconvenient subject.

"In a professional manner," answered Minerva briskly.

"Of course," Pomona said seriously. "But we shall also remember, that he purposefully entered himself to a tournament intended for the seventh years, so he obviously wants to be treated accordingly."

 **#^#**

"Barty, what it is that I hear?" Cornelius Fudge asked, jovially. "Surely the rumours that reached me cannot be true, can they? I mean, the young Potter boy a champion? Huh!"

"I'm afraid the rumours are true, Minister," Bartemius Crouch answered seriously. "We do not know how, but either he managed to bypass the wards somehow or his name was entered without his knowledge. The crux of the matter is, he is now the fourth participant, and we can't do much about it as the goblet creates a binding magical contract."

"It's true?" Cornelius spluttered. "But... I... Ugh!"

"Yes, sir. I'm afraid, we have a crisis in making on our hands. French will want blood, and so will our own public. We need to decide what do we do."

"What do you suggest we do?"

"I will placate the French government somehow, it won't even be very difficult, from what I understand in France magical education is not nearly as important to the public as it is here, not many people care about some school competition. As far as our own public is concerned though... we need to put the blame on someone; the two obvious candidates are Dumbledore and Potter."

 **#^#**

Severus Snape was pacing angrily in his room. Yet again, Potter decided to show how better he was, breaking rules without any care for the consequences. This time, however, he might have just gone too far. This time it seemed that the whole school would turn on him, teachers included. If Diggory's behaviour was any indication, Potter could finally lose this blasted immunity. _Finally_.

 **#^#**

"Hadrian, what happened there?" Blaise asked, trying to sound unassuming.

"They are bloody morons, that's what happened," Hadrian grumbled. "Dumbledore failed at securing the cup, and my name was somehow inserted, with a fake fourth school. This pretty much was all it took for the goblet to spew my name, though Moody suspected a powerful confundus charm could have been used."

"So, just to clarify, I'm not throwing accusations, you did not enter willingly, correct?" Blaise asked.

"Correct," Hadrian confirmed. "I had no wish to do so and I have much more money than I can win, and fame is obviously not something that I crave. I'm not some stupid Gryffindor to willingly walk to a danger just for the kicks," he said, gloomily.

"We believe you, of course," announced Draco, grandly. "Well, at least most of us, Amy had some reservations, but then, who cares about her?" Malfoy scion said, dismissively. "The real problem is, from what we managed to discern after you left our table, most students from other houses think you cheated. We can't put it past some of them to try bullying you," Hadrian raised his brows at the evident concern in Draco's voice.

"We like and trust you," Daphne confirmed. "It is a well known fact that other houses don't really like us. Gryffindors are probably right now ranting about you being evil, Puffs are plotting ways to eliminate you to better the chances of their own Champion, and Ravenclaws will go with the flow. You need to be careful."

"I know," Hadrian answered seriously. "Trust me, I will never be a pushover. If they try something funny, I will pay them back tenfold," he said darkly, and not one of his friends doubted him.

"Continuing with the main problem, do you have to compete?" asked Theo.

"Well, organizers surely think so, but I'm not so sure. They say it is a binding magical contract, but I have been a part of a binding oath, and I know how it feels. I felt nothing of the sort, my magic didn't react anyhow to the supposedly unbreakable contract, which makes me question if I really can't quit it," Harry mused. "Were any of you part of something similar?" Seeing all of them shaking their heads, he sighed. "Oh well, t'was worth a shot. Either way, I have managed to secure an appointment with the solicitor for tomorrow, we will go over all the by-laws and see if we can find anything."

"After or before the SC session?"

"What session?" Hadrian asked sharply. He didn't hear anything about it.

"What, you don't know?" Draco raised one brow. "As far as I know we have all been informed by Diggory's patronus. He really doesn't like you right now, does he?"

"So when exactly is this session?"

"4 PM."

"All right. I'll do my best to plan accordingly, hopefully Bowles can arrive earlier. Now, I'm sorry, but I'm beginning to have a headache; I better go to bed," the youngest champion announced, to which all his friends bid him a good night and left.

 _Good night my ass._

 **===#^#===**

"What are you doing here, _Potter_?" sneered Justin Finch-Fletchley, who just happened to be arriving to the meeting at the same time as Hadrian.

"There is a School Council session," Hadrian started, deliberately slowly speaking, as if he was talking to someone mentally-challenged. "I am a representative. Conclusively... oh, pardon me, I meant _because of this_ , I'm here," he said snidely, much more so than he would have ever allowed himself under normal circumstances. However these weren't normal circumstances since on his way here, he had been bumped into several times, got sneered and even spat at. Normally, he would have retaliated harshly, but fate decreed that he would wake up much too late, and so he had to hurry. Consequently, he was in a very bad mood and unable to hold his temper.

"Not for longer I hear."

"Come again?"

"Nevermind, Potter; enjoy your status while it lasts," Finch-Fletchley smirked and entered the hall, leaving Hadrian slightly confused behind. Were they so angry as to try to remove him from the Council? Would they? And... could they?

 **#^#**

"I call this session to order. This session is happening because I feel that I need to use the Clause 35 point seven against one of us, against Potter. This clause allows a student to bring a matter they believe important to this body's attention and ask for a punishment to be handed. I want to..."

Draco loudly cleared his throat, effectively interrupting Diggory's speech. Seeing the Hufflepuff temporarily silenced, he wasted no time.

"Yes, chairman, that's all well and good, but the by-laws are quite clear that you can't act in capacity of any function, while you are accusing someone. Therefore, you have to relinquish your chairmanship for the time being. May I remind you, the clause you are calling also demands that if you are against a fellow Council member, the person who will be an acting chairman for the duration of the proceedings must be from the same house as the accused," Draco said, somehow managing to sneer at Diggory all the time, and then sat down.

"Figures you would defend your fellow snake," Ron Weasley butted in.

"Of course I would, Weasley, but you wouldn't know anything about it, would you? After all, it's not really a mere coincidence that your whole family has been considered to be blood traitors for several generations now," Draco said, looking at Weasley as if he was a really big and nasty bug.

"A filthy death eater like you..."

"Enough," a sudden voice cut through. Hadrian turned around and saw Professor Quirrell standing close to the entrance, in one of the hall's niches. "I suspected that this session might be heated, that's why I am here. I don't like what you are trying to do here, Mr. Diggory, but it is your right. You will all stick to the rules, and there will be no pointless squabbles. Mister Weasley and Mister Malfoy, cease it at once. Mister Diggory, you will do as the rules state and choose who will act in your stead from Slytherin," he decided. Such was the respect the man commanded, that not a single protest was raised.

"Of course, Professor. In that case I think it will be best if Greengrass is the acting chairman," Cedric looked decidedly less gleeful than just moments ago. After the changes were done, Diggory continued his accusatory speech.

"We all know what Hadrian Potter did. He entered his name in the goblet while knowing that the rules prohibited him from doing this. He somehow confunded the Goblet, which caused him to be chosen as fourth champion. His actions brought shame on this school and this body. What's even worse, when confronted with the facts he stubbornly lied in the faces of our esteemed guests from abroad, disgracing us even further. The ministry has officially declared him a cheater, or at least that's what Prophet printed today. For all this, I move that we ask the board of governors to suspend him for the duration of this whole year. Thank you."

"Thank you, Mr. Diggory," Daphne said, only barest hint of anger in her voice. "Now, it's time for Mr. Potter. Please, do go on."

"Thank you, Daphne," Hadrian started. "The truth is, judging by the way you all look at me, you have already decided to go through with Diggory's motion. What I can say is this: I have not knowingly entered myself in any way in this Tournament. As for the Ministry's declaration, rest assured that I'll be suing them shortly for libel; I will do so with everyone who publicly states lies about me, so please watch your mouth Diggory. Thank you."

"Thank you, Mr. Potter. As there is nothing left to be said, or so I believe, we will vote now. For this motion to pass, a majority of at least 16 votes is required. Touch the white stone if you want to ask the Board to suspend Mr. Potter; please touch Black if you don't want this. What is surprising," here she quickly shuffled several documents on the desk, "it seems the by-laws don't prohibit either Mr. Potter or Mr. Diggory from voting. Curious, huh. Anyway, now we vote. Thank you. The motion was repealed, as only 15 were in favour of contacting the board. Yes, Mister Diggory?" She asked the boy when she noticed him trying to gain her attention.

"In that case I have another motion. I suggest that we strip Potter from his membership in this very body, as he obviously can't represent the student body honourably."

"Urm," Daphne stumbled slightly. "I'm not sure if this motion is permissible? We will have to make a short recess while I check all the appropriate by-laws..."

"Don't bother," a male's voice from the door interrupted her. "This motion is not permissible, a member would have to be suspended to be stripped from his position which, obviously, is not going to happen as we have witnessed just second ago."

"Mister Bowles, always a pleasure," Professor Quirrell shook hands with the solicitor. "Now, that you are here, I trust you will be able to handle all that might happen here?"

"Of course, professor; I won't keep you any longer."

Just like that, Professor Quirrell was gone, and Cedric was fuming.

"Now, see here, we don't need any solicitor here to tell us how to self-govern!"

"Ah, so now I am not needed, right? Somehow, you didn't complain when I aided you with your chairmanship on several occasions," Adrian smirked. "Regardless, I'm not going anywhere until you are done with this slanderous session, as I'm here today as Mr. Potter's solicitor."

"Fine," Diggory spat. "In that case, I move that we ostracise him informally. I don't care if this motion is permissible or not; I ask all of you shun Potter for his disgraceful behaviour and call for stripping him of his immunity."

"Mr. Diggory!" Daphne was outraged at Diggory's casual dismissal of applicable procedures. "Your first motion is obviously impermissible, we could only vote on ostracising Mr. Potter if we asked the board for suspension and they refused, and you know this very well! As for the second motion..." she looked questioningly at Adrian.

"...it is also impermissible. The immunity might be taken only when asked for by a member of a staff in face of a disciplinary action."

"Well, here you have it. Mr. Diggory, will this be all, or will you inundate us with more ridiculous proposals?"

"That will be all. Please, everyone, think about my plea," and with this, he left the hall.

 **===#^#===**

"I have been reading all night to find all relevant laws," Adrian admitted, when he couldn't finish his first sentence because of yawning. "Here," he said as he uncorked small vial and downed the contents. "This should help. As I was saying, I've checked everything. Many relevant laws are positively ancient. Here is what I managed to uncover: the contract is binding all participants and organizers, it is the second harshest type of magical contract and it is also airtight, there is no turning back once an intent to enter the tournament is expressed in a magically sufficient way, in this case, by putting one's name in the Goblet." Hadrian grimaced.

"So I'm stuck," he ascertained gloomily.

"Not necessarily, Mr. Potter. Please let me finish. You told me that you did not enter knowingly in any way. If that is the case, there has never been any properly expressed intent on your part, which is necessary for a magical contract to fully form. In other words, Mr. Potter, it is my firm belief that you are not bound by the contract, unless of course you were not telling me the whole truth."

"Are you absolutely certain? And please, call me Hadrian, we see each other often enough for the formalities to be cumbersome."

"Very well, Hadrian, then please call me Adrian. Yes, I am absolutely certain. Do you know what happens when you even think of breaking a magical contract? How about a small demonstration? Here," he gave Hadrian a piece of parchment. "This is one of the less severe magical contracts. If you sign it, you will be required to prick your finger within an hour from signing it. If you break this contract, you will feel a magical backlash which will make you ill for at least several hours, and I will be notified of your perjury. Would you please sign it?"

Hadrian took the offered paper and read it carefully. Seeing that it was indeed relatively mild, he signed it, and almost immediately he felt his magic react.

"Very well. Now you are bound by this magical contract. Now think, just think, of not fulfilling it intentionally. What do you feel?"

"I... My magic is trying to compel me to find a knife, and I begin to feel the backlash. My head just started to hurt," Hadrian complained.

"Yes, that would be it. Now, this works the same with any other type of binding oath magic, be it a spoken vow or a written contract. So the surest way to check if you are bound is to intentionally start planning breaking it," he explained. "I would suggest however, just in case, to lie down when you do so, with a magical contract so powerful and harsh, effects will be much more perceptible."

Hadrian did as suggested, and lied down on his bed. And then, he thought about intentionally ignoring the tasks and the whole event. When nothing happened, he grinned happily.

"I see the test was successful," solicitor noted smugly. "In that case, you can, obviously, ignore this whole event and not compete. While perhaps tempting, I would suggest at least considering other options. The other option is you could participate since participating would give you an unexpected side bonus: as this tournament is intended for the of age wizards, you would be declared of age, essentially emancipated. This would allow you full access to your family vault and be rid of Dumbledore as your guardian. The third option is you could declare that you will compete, which will force the ministry and goblins to emancipate you; but then, just before the first task, you may declare that you quit. Lastly, you can quit partially - forfeiting the current task, while retaining the right to participate in the next one, should you wish to do so."

"Huh, many options, eh? Obviously it would be best if I declared my wish to participate and then quit, but then..." Hadrian mused aloud. "All right, I'll have to think about that. Thankfully I have some time before the first task, so I don't have to choose now. What we need to hurry up with though, and what I'd like to talk about now, are those slanderous articles with Ministry's statements..."


	14. Chapter 14: Something dark

"You do realize it's sort of your fault, actually?" Blaise smirked. "If it wasn't for your meddling, there would be no council to speak of, and you wouldn't be in this precarious position," he added.

"I do," Hadrian sighed. "But honestly, even knowing that people are generally fickle, I'd never have expected them to turn on me so quickly; I was one of the most liked snakes in the castle for a few years now. It took only one evening for all of them to decide that I'm worse than dirt," he said, somewhat bitterly. It wasn't that he cared much about what public thought about him; it was more about the sheer ridiculousness of this situation that edged him.

The two boys were currently sitting in Hadrian's room, having just returned from Potions' class. Snape was especially vicious today. Knowing that the boy could no longer rely on his immunity, he almost immediately slapped him with detention, ostensibly for 'rude behaviour', despite Hadrian sitting silently at his desk waiting for instructions. Fortunately, he didn't lose any points, but that was only because Snape didn't want to endanger his own house's standing for the Cup.

On their way back, he was once again targeted. This time, however, he wasn't inactive; seeing colourful spells coming his way he immediately raised his shield causing them to harmlessly go sideways. As soon as they weren't dangerous anymore, he dropped the shield and looked around, just in time to see two boys clad in yellow trimmed robes run away. He almost gave chase, but then thought better of it; he would wait, eventually an opportunity would present itself, and he would swiftly deal with them once and for all.

 **#^#**

The class has been in the middle of Transfiguration, when the door opened and in walked a young Gryffindor boy.

"Mr. Creevey, what can I help you with?" Professor McGonagall looked sternly at her young charge; she didn't appreciate being intruded in the middle of a lesson.

"Professor, I've been sent to collect Hadrian Potter! There is some kind of ceremony, you know, for champions, and he is required to attend," he quickly explained in one breath.

"I see," the older professor's brows twitched. "In that case, Mr. Potter, you can go, but I expect you to self-study today's topic, it wouldn't do for a... champion... to slack off," she sniffed.

Without acknowledging her attitude, Hadrian casually stood up and left the classroom.

"So what exactly is this ceremony?" He asked the younger boy once they were alone in the corridor.

"Oh, I'm not sure," he said. "It has something to do with wands since I saw Ollivander there and there will probably be some interview as journalists were there as well," he revealed.

"Ah, must be the weighing of wands," Hadrian mused aloud. "Well, in that case I think I'll just skip it," he decided, instantly turning around. He wasn't quick enough, however, as they were almost there, and so he was noticed by several people who quickly waved him on.

"Mister Potter, what a pleasure that is! I believe you must have heard about me, Rita Skeeter, I work for the Daily Prophet. What would you say about a quick interview?" She asked, with a glint in her eye. Before the boy had a chance to give her an answer, she caught him and tried to take him somewhere.

"Don't touch me please," Hadrian shook her off. "I will consider giving an interview sometime soon; if that happens, you will be first on my list to contact, but for now please, leave me alone," he said with a hint of steel in his voice.

"Oh very well, Hadrian, I'll wait," Rita pouted. "Just make sure it's not for too long, my quill sometimes gets... excitable," she advised.

He was of half mind to leave the place right then, but then thought better of it. If he did so, they wouldn't know that he refused to participate in this activity, and would consequently probably search for him. No, it was better to stay, wait and tell them so personally.

"Excuse me," he said loudly once they were all assembled in the class and about to start. "I just wanted to tell you that I refuse to participate in this ceremony, as it is not mandatory. I'll be leaving now. Thank you."

"Surely you can stay and have your wand checked by the expert?" Dumbledore tried to reason with him. "It stands to a reason that you will need your wand in the best condition available for the tasks..." he trailed, looking at him expectantly.

"It's not necessary," Hadrian declined.

"Mister Potter, while true that it's not mandatory, it has been tradition in all past tournaments, and it is expected of all champions to..." tried Crouch in a strict voice, but he was quickly cut off by Hadrian.

"You will find, Mister Crouch, that I don't care all that much for some silly tournament's traditions. Have a good day," he said and left.

He has just passed the first corner down the corridor, when somehow he was jumped on - figuratively speaking this time - by Rita Skeeter.

"Hadrian, I was willing to wait, but after this little outburst there I feel we have to have this interview now," she said smiling.

"I thought I was quite clear on this," Hadrian replied, irritated. "I will contact you when the proper time comes."

"Think about it," she urged him. "We wouldn't want for my excitable quill to write something that you wouldn't be very happy about now, would we?"

"Miss Skeeter, are you trying to blackmail me?" the Potter heir asked incredulously, to which Rita's smile turned slightly wicked.

"Blackmail is such a dirty word, I prefer... to give incentives."

Suddenly, Hadrian saw red. He didn't know how or why, but the next time he could think clearly was in the Chamber of Secrets, standing with his wand aiming at the bound and unconscious Rita Skeeter. He blinked and blinked again.

 _What the fuck?_

He had no recollection of kidnapping the vulture of a woman. Worse, he had no memory of the whole event, and he could not think of any reason whatsoever why he would act so rashly. This was troubling, very much so. He now had a very big problem on his hands, as he had to decide what to do with his victim. He decided to ponder this later, now he needed to calm down and organize his thoughts. To do so, he decided to visit his mindscape. Just to be sure however, he quickly cast the most powerful ward known to him around the Chamber; it wouldn't do to be discovered by Granger.

Sitting down, he was already counting down from one hundred to zero; one of the simplest methods of relaxation. Normally, he would have used something a little faster, but now he felt that an extra time spending on calming down his inner turmoil was called for.

Two... One... Hadrian opened his eyes. He no longer was in the Chamber. Instead, he was sitting on a vast meadow with a small stream merrily murmuring nearby. The boy looked around, trying to ascertain if there was anything wrong here. It was commonly accepted theory that the mindscape of Occlumency practitioners resembled state their souls were in. Yet here, in his mindscape there didn't seem to be anything troubling... there! Hadrian narrowed his eyes. Far away, in a nearly invisible forest on the horizon, something dark and out of place could be seen, quickly retreating deeper into the woods. With a mere thought, Hadrian appeared right next to the forest to investigate it. As he approached however, he found out that the closer he was, the more uncomfortable he felt. Quickly, he realized that this feeling of wrongness originated from his head... from his scar. He tried pressing on, but eventually the uncomfortable feeling turned to pain, and he decided to let go and do some research before coming back.

Never before had he given much thought to his scar; he accepted it as something always present, a part of him. It never acted out, it never gave any other symptoms or signs that it might be something more. But now... now it was obvious, that his scar wasn't just a scar; the question was, what was it then?

 **===#^#===**

To say that Hadrian was in a bad mood when walking to a detention with Snape would be an understatement of the century. He has just finished obliviating Rita and setting her free, and now he hurried to the dungeons. He was positive that the petty man of a teacher would do his very best to get back at him. He probably wouldn't resort to violence, but verbal abuse would most assuredly be plenty. The only bright ray was the allotted time; Snape wouldn't be able to torment him for more than an hour, at least on that day. His musings were interrupted, when from behind a corner two Hufflepuff seven years' emerged.

"It's not very wise, walking alone in your situation," the first said seriously.

"Yes, after all something might happen to our champion, and we wouldn't want this now, would we?" the second guy taunted, drawing his wand in a slow, exaggerated manner.

"Oh wait," the first said, as if he just realised something, "but that's not a champion. It's a usurper!"

"Usurper? Oh my, how could this happen in this fine institution? Hey, I've got an idea! We should..." whatever he was going to say was interrupted by, not at all impressed, Hadrian.

"You wouldn't know the difference between a headache and an idea Stewart," he drawled, already preparing to draw his wand. "Now go away, I have places to be, preferably somewhere without you two spoiling the air with your rubbish."

"Why you little piece of shit," the closer boy, Stewart, reddened. "We only wanted to teach you a lesson on school loyalty, but I think you will benefit from something extra," he growled, advancing in - what he thought - a threatening manner.

"Listen, you two, I don't have time for this. Could you perhaps choose a better time? Some time tomorrow evening maybe?" Hadrian said dismissively, inwardly smirking. Here an occasion that he was waiting for presented itself.

"You are so full of yourself Potter, it's disgusting. Do you really think you can take the two of us? You, a mere fourth year? And don't you underestimate us, we are top of our class," the other, as yet unnamed boy, warned.

"You are impossible to underestimate," Hadrian irked them further, paying close attention to their movements. It seemed they wanted to attack him from two sides, which meant that he would have to move swiftly to counteract their advancement. Indeed, that was precisely what they went for; it seemed his last remark was too much.

He didn't have to duck, however, as the duo chose to use a barrage of disarming jinxes, which he simply sidestepped as they were all aimed in the same direction, completely disregarding any possibility of movement on his part.

 _My turn_ , he smirked.

Two underpowered banishing spells followed with stunners were all it took to down top of their class. Hadrian quickly glanced up and down the corridor if they were still alone. Satisfied, he aimed his wand, and used some advanced transfiguration on both of them. Quickly casting tempus he saw that he would be right on time for his detention, save for any other unplanned stops. Walking away he left two very unconscious, and very yellow boys, now with uncanny resemblance to badgers, proudly wearing badges saying, _'I got fucked by Diggory and it was awesome!'._

 _That should teach Puffs not to fuck with me._

The detention was every bit as unpleasant as he imagined. Snape made him clean the floor with the smallest brush available, without any magic, all the while making snide remarks and insulting him openly. Hadrian decided not to do anything... he would get back at him, eventually. It was wiser to wait and see what the man had in store for him.

The fate that befall on two Hufflepuff boys seemed to cause a desirable effect for Hadrian. Once it became public knowledge, pretty much all attacks and pranks stopped immediately. While nobody could present proof that it was him, as the seventh years declined to incriminate themselves in the process, it was what most students thought.

 **===#^#===**

"Harry, can I talk with vous?" Fleur Delacour intercepted him before he could enter the Great Hall for dinner. Looking curiously at the beautiful girl, he waved his friends to show them he was fine and to go on. He noticed a scowl marry Daphne's face, but he decided not to linger on this for too long.

"Depends. Do you think you can remember that my name is Hadrian?" Harry smirked.

"Oh," she reddened. "I'm sorry. Of course, Hadrian. Can we go outside?"

"Fine," he agreed. "After you," he smirked, as it gave him a very good view of her ass...ets. They quickly left the castle. Once they were sufficiently far from any prying ears, Fleur cast a privacy ward around them; Hadrian added his own localized climate control ward.

"Good idea," she looked at him appraisingly. "Hadrian, I wanted to say that I am sorry. I've had time to cool off, and I think I was very rude. I don't know if you did enter yourself or not, and honestly I don't care. You are obviously at a disadvantage, and you are a good... I mean, ambitious and obviously powerful, for your age... I don't want anything to happen to you," she rambled, with her cheeks flushed.

"Apology accepted," he easily allowed. He could tell that she had some ulterior motive, but for now it cost him nothing to be polite.

"Thank you," the part-veela said with an obvious relief. "Do you know anything about the first task?"

"I do," he said, and noticed curiously that her face fell. "I know that I have no intention of being a part of it," he elaborated, and she looked up hopefully.

"If you say so. In that case let me tell you... I mean... I probably shouldn't, you are my rival after all... but I..."

"Easy, Fleur," Hadrian smiled gently, to which she huffed.

"Oh very well. Hadrian, the first task is a dragon. I don't know much more about it, if we are to fight it or do something else... But I thought you should know."

"A dragon," Hadrian repeated numbly… A dragon.

"Yes..."

"Thank you, Fleur," he eventually smiled at the girl. "I'll make sure to remember your help. I need to go if I want to make it to the dinner, so if there is nothing else...?"

"Yes yes, oui. Go, I must go as well. I hope we can meet again, Hadrian. Bye," she said dispelling the wards and quickly leaving.

 _Hook, line and..._ Thought Fleur triumphantly. She was sure that her shy girl act managed to fool Hadrian into thinking that she was somehow into him. There was nothing to lose telling him about the dragons. As far as she knew, both Diggory and Krum have already known that, and somehow she doubted that the youngest of them would pose much of a challenge anyway. Having him owe her a favour, on the other hand, and possibly even falling for her might be the difference between winning and losing the Tournament.

 _Weird girl_ , Hadrian thought. _Insanely hot, but weird..._ _Dragons, huh. Good thing I've already decided not to compete._ _I wonder what's the main course today?_

 _ **===#^#===**_

 _Triwizard Romance?_

 _By Rita Skeeter_

 _The choosing of a national hero, Harry Potter, as a fourth champion in the Triwizard Tournament came as a shock to all of us. While the investigation is still in progress, the preliminary findings seem to suggest that the fault lies at hands of the school's headmaster, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, who was responsible for warding the Goblet of Fire against anyone under the age of seventeen._

 _It seems however, that Harry Potter decided to use all the opportunities presented by the event to his own satisfaction. It has come to this reporter's attention, that several students saw the boy-who-lived meeting secretly with Beauxbatons Academy champion, breathtakingly beautiful quarter-veela Fleur Delacour. What the pair has been discussing remains a mystery, as they were careful enough to put a silencing spells in place. It is worth noting though, that - as several students that this reporter has interviewed claimed - Mister Potter seems to be already romantically involved with his fellow classmate, Pansy Parkinson of Slytherin. Does this mean that our young hero is leading a less than exemplary life? The mystery deepens, as there are also rumours that he might be involved with Daphne Greengrass, heiress apparent of the house Greengrass, who..._

Hadrian's eyes widened. This was probably the first time he has been written in a newspaper about in such a negative light. He didn't like the conclusion, especially as the article promised a follow-up story. He immediately procured a piece of parchment and began writing letter to Adrian Bowles.

 **===#^#===**

"Dear members of this fine body," Hermione started her speech, shooting smug looks at Hadrian. "I'm here before you today to propose, once again, that we ban usage of a disgusting word 'mudblood'. I have been thinking very hard on the arguments raised in this chamber previously, and I came to believe that I have a solution that will satisfy all of you. If the motion passes, it will be illegal to use any derogatory terms based on unchangeable personal traits, aimed at any other person. Such a broad definition will make sure that no slurs are being used, and that the shameful word 'mudblood' will cease to exist. The punishment for violating this new rule would be left to the teachers' and prefects' discretion. Obviously I am more than ready to answer any and all of your questions. Thank you."

Hadrian sighed. He could see where this was going; now every harmful law repealed thanks to his intervention would probably be brought up again, in hopes that the council would disregard his arguments this time. It was actually a very real possibility; the attempt at ostracising him, and then a subsequent removal of his immunity were proof enough that he fell from representatives' collective grace. He didn't even bother speaking up as he knew, that he would be at best ignored. Instead, he asked Daphne to do so, but...

"I thank you very much, representative Greengrass, for your opinion. Let's be honest, we all know that you are now speaking for the disgraced Hadrian Potter, so there really is no need to discuss the points you raised," Granger dismissed Daphne's speech completely. "I believe it is pointless to discuss it any further, wouldn't you agree, chairman Diggory?" she smiled brightly at the boy who, in turn, smiled back.

"Indeed, I agree. We have been pretty much through all possible arguments the last time you tried to have your motion passed, so I don't think it necessary to ponder this for much longer. I suggest we recess for five minutes, and then we vote."

"I must object chairman Diggory, why should we be deprived of our statutory rights? Actually it is not only our right, but a duty, to discuss any laws proposed here thoroughly! And what representative Granger suggested is fundamentally different from her previous proposal," stated Daphne hotly.

"Objection overruled representative Greengrass. We will reassemble here in five minutes, and then we vote."

By now, Draco had enough.

"Diggory, you have no right! You can't just arbitrarily decide that there will be no discussion, it is...absolutely..." but then he deflated, seeing that Diggory has already left the hall, and many more followed his suit. "Fucking unbelievable," he exclaimed exasperated, throwing his hands in the air.

"If I didn't know you any better, Draco, I'd have thought you have lost your cool for a second there," Daphne teased him shortly after, to which Draco flushed, realizing just how rash his behaviour was.

"Worthy of a Gryffindor," seconded Hadrian, smiling.

"Oh shut it. It's just shocking, the way Diggory stomped on the bylaws," the blond boy grumbled. "The question is, do we do anything?"

"There is nothing we can do long-term," Hadrian shrugged. "But we can make their lives slightly harder, as well as postpone adopting this aberration of a law. To make this happen..."

By the time the Slytherins were done scheming, other representatives were coming back, and in no time the session was again called to order.

"We will now vote," announced Cedric. "Please touch... yes, representative Greengrass?" he asked vexed.

"I'd like to formally submit a request for a recess till at least next week, or till such time as we can invite Mr. Bowles to provide us with legal council, because it seems to me that you are not conducting this meeting in a proper and lawful manner," Daphne said, her ice queen persona shining.

"Rejected, we will vote now," Diggory announced grandly, with a benign smile, not unlike Dumbledore's patented smiles. "You know the drill. Please touch... yes, representative Malfoy? This is the last time I allow any speeches, requests or such before the vote," he warned.

"Chairman Diggory and honoured representatives, the manner in which today's session is being held is lamentable, all thanks to our chairman. I believe this is one of those cases that calls for a vote of no confidence, which is precisely what I'm invoking now. Thank you," he finished and sat down, with a smirk.

Chaos descended over the hall, but Diggory was quick to regain control with a few loud bangs.

"Representative Malfoy, I doubt that is necessary. I won't allow it, it's clear as day that your only intention is to obstruct today's proceedings," he snarled. "We will vote," he declared stubbornly.

"I don't think so, Mr. Diggory," came a new voice. Those that turned around quickly noticed that it was Professor Quirrell, who was fetched by Hadrian. "I have been provided with this body's charter, which is part of Hogwarts' by-laws, and there is a very specific procedure in case of a neque fiduciam vote, which prohibits the current session from going on. It is my understanding that you are now required to announce recess for no less than two weeks, during which time an interim chairman will be responsible for any and all meetings that might be necessary."

"Professor Quirrell, are you absolutely sure that we can't have a vote now?" Cedric gritted his teeth.

"Positive. It's not my place to say so, however I dare say this meeting has come to an end. An interim chairman is to be chosen by the Headmaster within two days." the man said, looking expectantly at Diggory, who by now was red, be that from anger or embarrassment.

"Very well. This session is concluded, we will convene as soon as possible. Thank you all," he said, looking furiously at the smug heir Malfoy as he said that.

"Well, that was fun, wasn't it?" Malfoy grinned.

"Hardly," Daphne disagreed. "I'm actually quite shaken. Never would I expect him to act like this," she shook his head.

"Seems like this useless tournament might be, actually, useful. We learned about Diggory's true face..." Hadrian mused. "Anyway guys, I need to let off some steam. You go on, I'll join you in an hour or two," he announced, intending to go to the Chamber for some training.

 **#^#**

Hadrian barely set up some dummies, when a very unwelcome presence has manifested itself.

"Well, if it isn't the school pariah," Hermione Granger jibbed.

"What the hell do you want?" Hadrian asked.

"Why so rude, Hadrian? It seems we both had the same idea to let off some steam," she raised her brow. "This place is huge, surely you can share?"

"Fuck off," he muttered. "If it wasn't for the fact that your disappearance now would be connected with me, I'd dispatch you about right now," he said tiredly.

"Pretty big words for someone who can't even fend off some harmless corridor pranks," she mocked him, but frowned when she saw him smirk.

"Your information is quite old it seems. You see," he started circling her. "Those funny guys that pranked me... well... they won't do so again. Ever," his eyes seemed to darken slightly. "Yesterday I was too damn tired to care, but today... today is not yesterday," he stated calmly, firing his first volley of spells at Hermione, who was visibly caught by surprise. It seemed that she didn't learn all that much after their previous duel, as she still relied on shields and stationary tactics, which was even more useless here than it was on a camp field. There, Hadrian had at least somewhat restricted movements because of bushes, but in the Chamber, unless she managed to get close to the columns, he could circle her as he pleased.

And he did, all the while firing jinxes, hexes and curses and this time, he wasn't holding himself either, freely bombarding her with various cutters, exploding hexes and multiple other spells, many of which could easily be classified as dark magic. Hermione was doing all she could, pumping as much magic to her shield as she could manage, but in the end it just wasn't enough, and when the next volley hit her shield, it simply flickered out of existence. Simultaneously, she got hit with a borderline dark cutting curse to the arm and a powerful banishing hex that sent her flying straight to the wall. The sound of collision was sickening, if Hadrian were to be honest, but he didn't care. He quickly approached her to check if her vital signs were present. To his great surprise they were, and the girl was in much better shape than he expected, because as soon as he was close to her, she managed to aim her wand and fire a spell. This was all she could muster in her condition, and almost immediately after she fell unconscious. Her spell however hit true, and so with a thump a second body joined her on the floor.

 **#^#**

 _The Boy Who Built A Harem_

 _by Rita Skeeter_

 _Not even a week has passed since my previous article speculating about Hadrian Potter's love life in lieu of him becoming a Triwizard Tournament Champion. For those of our readers who missed, let me quickly recap what we know so far..._

Hadrian's eye twitched.

 _...an even more shocking development has been uncovered. This reporter managed to obtain, from a reliable source close to Mr. Potter himself, an account of his suspicious disappearance for a night at the exact same time as a young muggleborn fourth-year girl from Gryffindor, Hermione Granger, went missing as well. Curiously, it is said that the both of them returned to their respective dorms roughly at the same time, looking dishevelled, while apparently they both vehemently denied having an affair..._

Hadrian felt his mood darken. He just knew his flash duel with Granger and a subsequent night spent together being unconscious would have repercussions. Granted, he has already received a detention from Snape, but here it was, a slanderous article again.

 _...raises severe red flags and questions about the ability of Hogwarts' staff to keep their young charges safe and out of trouble..._

He noticed that most of the Hall's occupants were looking at him. Which was understandable, he decided after a moment, as Granger decided not to show up.

 _...with Granger being the fourth member of this new harem, for that seems to be exactly this..._

He decided to do his very best not to show any emotion at all. It wouldn't do for people to believe he was somehow affected as it could make him look weak, which he couldn't afford at this time.

 _...with two witches being heiress to noble houses, and one an international guest, begs the question: what if his frivolous behaviour causes international incident, or even a domestic one? With two powerful lords possibly involved..._

Yes. This would make his life easier, he thought sarcastically. The last thing he needed was to be put on a receiving end of Lords Greengrass and Parkinson's wands. Oh, how he wished he didn't let Rita go.

 _...Just how much is too much? I will keep you updated as soon as a new information is revealed._

This is certainly too much; time to call the cavalry.

 **===#^#===**

"Good afternoon," Adrian Bowles walked into Daily Prophet Editor in Chief's office without even acknowledging the poor secretary. "We haven't got an appointment, but I won't take you long. Please, have a seat," he waved his hand when he saw the editor stand up. "My name is Adrian Bowles, and I am Mister Potter's attorney. I have read your most recent article and felt compelled to visit you," he explained.

"Mister Bowles, I fear that you've wasted your time; there is nothing I want to talk with you about," the editor, Barnabas Cuffe, said strongly. He was no stranger to people coming in and demanding various things from him, and he knew very well how to deal with them. "I'd appreciate it if you showed yourself out, preferably now."

"That won't be necessary, Mister Cuffe," Adrian parred. "I won't take long. Here," he stated, showing a piece of parchment, "is a formal lawsuit for libel. And here," - another piece of parchment - "are our exact demands, along with points that we wish to see in a retraction you are going to print at most at the end of the week. You accept our terms, the lawsuit goes to the bin. You don't, the lawsuit gets filed with the Wizengamot."

"Do you honestly believe that you are the first lawyer to threaten me?" Barnabas smiled condescendingly. "I'll read those papers, maybe even some time this week, but no promises. Were I you, however, I wouldn't hold my breath waiting for results, as you might just asphoxycate. Now, I believe we are done here. Have a good day, Mister Bowles."

"Pleasure," Adrian stood, and promptly left the building, already formulating plans on how best to go about acquiring support for the lawsuit.

 **===#^#===**

 _Lord Black,_

 _I am very happy that you are recovering fast. I'm afraid, however, that I won't be able to meet with you on the date and place you have proposed._

 _Wishing you all the best,_

 _Hadrian J. Potter_

 _Heir Potter_

 **===#^#===**

"What if they make you compete?" fretted Daphne. It was finally the day of the first task, and she was walking Hadrian to the tent, where the champions were supposed to learn about the challenge.

"They can't," came the confident reply. "We've been through this, Daphne. The organizers are bound by the magical contract, and making me compete, a person that isn't bound, would go directly against it. They won't risk it," he shrugged, totally unconcerned.

"If you say so," the blond girl said, clearly not convinced. "Just promise that you won't budge, even if they threaten you or whatever," she said in a pleading tone of voice, which caused Hadrian to stop.

"You really are worried, aren't you?" He looked at her appraisingly. "Listen, I meant what I said. There is no way in heaven or hell I'm going to compete, so don't worry about this. I promise, I won't even look at the dragon." This seemed to calm the girl down, enough to let go of him. He smiled at her, hugged her quickly when he heard Bagman's calling for him, and disappeared in the tent, leaving nervous Ice Queen outside.

 **#^#**

"As you've been told previously, the first task is supposed to test your daring in the face of the unknown. To that end, you have not been told what will it entail. Well, now it's the time! You will each pick a specimen from this pouch. Miss Delacour, ladies first!" Ludo Bagman thrust a small leather bag in Fleur's direction. She put her hand in, and just a second later she withdrew a miniature Common Welsh Green. She nodded, rather happy, and allowed Cedric to pick one for himself. Hadrian didn't really pay any attention to what other two boys got, but he was immensely relieved that he decided to forego the task when he saw that he was supposed to face the fearsome Hungarian Horntail, one of the most ferocious dragon breed in the world.

It was to the complete bafflement of Fleur and Krum that he decided to pass the time reading a book. Only sporadically would they hear anything at all from the outside; the tent has been spelled to be mostly sound-proof, to allow the champions peace and quiet. Eventually, it was only him inside. Suddenly perking up, Hadrian stood up and began inspecting the walls of the tent. He quickly discerned that they were spelled impenetrable from one side. The question was if it was achieved with a charm, which could easily be overridden, or a ward, that would need breaking, thus alerting the caster. After a short deliberation, he began waving his wand, tracing complicated patterns in the air. Finally, he seemed satisfied; wasting no time he cast 'Finito', followed with a localized transparency charm and just like that he now had a vision and audio, precisely in time to see Krum beginning to cast various curses and hexes at the beast.

His tactic was unimaginative, but certainly flashy; many spells that he cast were very impressive, causing loud bangs aimed to distract the dragon, explosions, fire whips, ice missiles and so on. It was obvious that his tactic depended on overwhelming his opponent. It seemed to be working, too - the dragon was growing progressively more and more agitated, while being completely unable to switch to offence. Which was a good thing for Krum, Hadrian thought, as it seemed that the boy had a very stationary fighting style, and any sufficiently powerful fire blast would scorch him to crisp.

Finally, seeing his opening, Viktor Krum decided to go for a kill - literally. He shouted two dreaded words of an unforgivable, causing the stadium to collectively inhale sharply. To some it seemed as if the green light was going in slow motion, but in reality it took less than three seconds to find its target. The majestic creature suddenly stilled, and simply crumbled to the ground. Not waiting for (a very unlikely) applause, Krum advanced on the nest, collected his egg and left the stadium.

Hadrian looked at the jury's booth. Karkaroff slightly smirked, Madame Maxime remained impassive, while Dumbledore looked grave. Crouch gritted his teeth, but it was Ludo Bagman who had the most visible reaction, as he was rendered speechless, gaping with his mouth wide open at the place where the international Quidditch star was last seen. Eventually, the stadium seemed to snap out of the shock, and it was moment that Hadrian chose to dispel his charm, waiting for the cannon blast.

As soon as he heard it, he left the tent. Instead of walking straight to the arena, as most people expected him to, he turned to his right, walking towards the judges. The stadium attentively observed his movements, some students had already started laughing at him, somewhat correctly, if unknowingly, assuming he chickened out and wanted to quit.

"What is the meaning of this? The arena is over there," Barty Crouch said stiffly as soon as Hadrian approached.

"I don't care. I hereby forego this task." Hadrian smirked.

"What do you mean? You can't just forego the task, you will lose your magic if you don't compete," Crouch said outraged.

"You will soon find, Mr. Crouch," Hadrian said, already turning away from the judges, "that I won't lose anything. Have a good day and good bye," the boy-who-got-shunned stated, and indeed left the stadium, that was now completely silent, filled with many disbelieving sets of eyes.

 **A/N:** Unfortunately, with this chapter, I leave you all for a few weeks. There probably won't be any update in August, as I'm now very busy: I'm finishing the process of self-publishing my first book. The reason I'm busy? Well, when I say 'self-publish', I mean it - I do everything, setting up a webpage with payment processing, editing and marketing included :-)

(that's also, by the way, the reason why this chapter is so late - I've had it almost finished for over two weeks now, but had no time to lay the finishing touches.)

 **Thanks to my beta, Haphne24!**


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